Future Past Perfect
by Spookykat
Summary: A time traveler leaps into Scully to save Mulder from being killed. Oh boy!
1. Default Chapter

Washington D.C., FBI Building May 17, 2000 9:35 AM

Dr. Sam Becket wasn't quite sure how long he had been traveling without a road. Time was no longer measured by years or months, but by hours and days. Years did not happen to him. Even if they did, he couldn't remember them anyway. The part of his brain that recalled past events had been scrambled.

Maybe this time, he'd find his way home.

But when the world solidified again, Sam found himself standing in front of a desk.

"Scully...Scully, you okay? You look like you've never seen me before."

Sam blinked through his new host's eyes to find a young man with fair skin, hazel eyes underneath fashionable glasses, and modestly styled brown hair looking up at him from his desk, apparently concerned.

Dr. Becket's theories of Time Travel had lead him to the development of a highly classified government project dubbed Quantum Leap, incorporating Einstein's Relativity theories into quantum physics. The end-result of which was a Time Machine, and the Time machine had sent him in front of this desk, into the body of someone else.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Sam answered, having no idea how fitting that response was. He looked down to see feminine hands and suppressed a groan, praying that this man wasn't going to try to steal a kiss or hit on him.

He glanced around at his new surroundings. Leaping as many times as he had gave him plenty of practice covering up disorientation that usually resulted. He had leapt in during everything to performing a piano concert at Carnegie Hall to participating in a beauty pageant to the being shot at during middle of a battle. Leaping into an office was a nice change of pace.

He was in a dark office with a low ceiling that had only one desk and no windows. The desk was piled with what must be more than to its capacity of papers. There was a wrinkled and frayed poster that had a UFO on it that affirmed "I WANT TO Believe" pinned to the wall behind the young man's head. Sam tried to hide a quizzical expression as he looked up to see twenty or so pencils suspended by their points on the ceiling. The young man popped a sunflower seed and began cracked it between his teeth, as if it turned the key to the wheels in his mind. Sam wondered what it was he wanted to believe.

"Of course you're fine." The young man answered wryly. "I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Scully. You could be hanging onto life by a thread and you'd be *fine.*" The young man snorted in frustration and went back to being engrossed in whatever was in the manila folder he was reading, thankfully missing the eye language. He gave Sam a smile with an odd mix of concern and frustration, eyes waiting for one of his partner's usual comebacks. Sam guessed from the young man's demeanor around him and the way he reacted with this woman that they spent a lot of time together. Odds are they shared a lot, in which case he was going to have to be careful with what he said, and judging from the way he was so absorbed in the contents of the folder, he loved his work.

Aggravated that the response that he was expecting never came, the young man arose and shrug into a slightly wrinkled jacket that was carelessly hung on the chair he was sitting on.

"Skinner wants us. We better get going." On the way out the door, Sam glanced at the front to see "Fox Mulder" in bold black letters against a brass nameplate. He wondered what sort of mother would curse her child with a name like that as he followed him briskly down unvarying corridors, trying to memorize the route to the office of whoever Skinner was.

Looking around, seeing the official pictures and memorabilia, he realized he was in the FBI building.

At least now he knew half of who he was, he knew where he was, but he didn't know why he was here. He needed to find out exactly why he had leapt into this Scully woman, and what he needed to do to leap. "Who knows?" He thought. "This might be the leap home." Ever since the project began, that's what he had to believe.

May 17, 2015 9:35 AM Roswell, New Mexico; Project Quantum Leap Headquarters

Al Calavici, clad in a zebra striped hat with matching pants, a royal blue shirt, and a red leopard-spotted jacket gnawed on his Cuban, mulling over the report that had just been handed to him. The Admiral was somewhat infamous around Dr. Becket's project for his outrageous wardrobe. He was a short older man, with a swanky demeanor, always smoking a Cuban, which seemed to be an appendage. He walked into the imaging chamber, holding a document in a manila folder, nodded a greeting to Goushie, Al's odd-looking underling. Al figured that whomever Sam had leapt into would be recovering from the leap by now, and would be able to give them more information to go on.

"Dr. Scully?" He barely had a chance to introduce himself before Scully-who-was-Sam clinched her jaw. With her arms folded, she let out an exasperated sigh, and shot Al an incredulous glare.

"Are you people from the NSA? Who put you up to this?"

All Al could do was freeze. Mulder—that was the guy in the file, wasn't it?

"What the *HELL* is going on here! Mulder! Langley!" She cried out into the air. "This *ISN'T* funny! A little bit *LATE* for April Fools' Day, don't you think? Whatever I did, Mulder, I'm sorry. You were right. Little green men *DO* exist. Let's go home now!" She started to march out the door.

Al raised an eyebrow and blocked her path. He noted rising anxiety in the voice, and waited for her to calm down. Anger and anxiety were not abnormal after experiencing disorientation when new Leapers went through the imaging process. He knew Sam too well to know that it wasn't his old friend speaking.

"Did Byers put you up to this?" Her jaw was clinched and her voice was low with anger.

Al, of course, had no idea who Byers was.

"Alright," Scully lunged at Al and was glaring at him, and doing everything but grabbing him by the collar. "Give me the ruby slippers so I can click my heals and we can go HOME!" anger lowered Scully's voice an octave or two. "Frohike?" She called to the air.

"Dr. Scully," He spoke with steady detachment, trying to calm her down, looking her frankly in the eyes. He sighed in frustration. If Scully wasn't going to cooperate there wasn't much chance with doing whatever it is Sam needed to do for her.

"Here are the ruby slippers. Just tell me anything you can about Agent Fox Mulder."

"Byers!" Scully was getting worried now. Al could tell he had struck a chord in her by mentioning her partner. She lunged at him again. "I'm not telling you a *thing* until you tell me where I am, where Mulder is, and what we are doing here."

Dr. Dana Scully was definitely not going to make this easy. Still, Al *had* to ask...

"What's a Frohike?"

*FBI, 2000, 5 Minutes later*

It wasn't long before Sam found himself taking the chair beside Mulder in front of a tall man with olive skin, a wreathe of peppery gray hair, and thin-rimmed glasses behind a desk. He took a deep breath, templed his hands beneath his chin.

"Mulder...how do you explain this case report? Do you genuinely expect me to believe that aliens were involved in this? It took every part of him not to glare at the young man increduliously and Sam choked down a gasp. Every ounce in his being wanted to laugh and scream all at once. *ALIENS!*

Instead, he only managed to mumble "Oh boy!"


	2. Chapter 2

-Quantum Leap Headquarters –

Scully shot him a glare that made Al very glad she was unarmed and that he was. Not that he hadn't received looks like that before from women. Al was also followed around the project by a reputation for being an open pervert.

"Dr. Beeks..." Al motioned the Project's psychologist to come over. A dark form briskly came forward, with a pleasant mix of assuredness and comfort in her disposition. They were whispering in conspiratorial tones. Scully was eyeing them conspicuously.

Scully was getting worried now. Al's urgent tone told her she needed to find Mulder fast; she wished with everything in her that she had a gun on her. A snap of the trigger is a great psychological technique. It would have given her answers a whole lot faster.

"Can you tell me what's going on here?" She asked futiley.

"Not quite." was all Dr. Beeks could respond. "It's against regulations Agent."

"Against regulations?" Scully echoed angrily. "Admiral, doctor, if anyone is being detained against their wills, believe me, full penalties for all involved in this will be persued. I am not leaving without some information as to why I'm being held here."

Al flashed Dr. Beeks one of his famous "I told ya she's a hot one!" looks. Dr. Beeks raised an eyebrow in a mix of 'down boy' and agreement. Dr. Beeks raised a hand gently, trying to calm Scully down.

"Look, Dr. Scully... We don't have your partner. I can't tell you who Langly or Byers are. I don't know of any other way to convince you that this isn't a joke. Al waved her to stop.

"Agent...we need your help. Arguing with us isn't going to solve anything...only making yours and our situations more complicated."

"Mulder? Complicated situations? Never?" Scully cracked a smile at the thought of yet again getting her partner out of a sticky situation. Scully wasn't going to give them any information on this one. Her voice was low and angry now. Her jaw was clinched in frustration. "If this is some kind of cover- up…" She folded her arms and pursed her lips with impatience. Then, disposing of her combative posture, she tried a different approach. "I'll make a deal with you here. I'll give you the information you need if you let me go with you to help him. If this is a hoax, then we'll all go home. If it isn't a hoax, I can do my usual you can do your usual, and can go home."

"Dr. Scully. Can you wait here a minute?" Al escorted Dr. Beeks just outside the room.

"Dr. Beeks, what if we told her the truth? This woman's not going to just lie down and accept what we tell her. She thinks she's protecting Mulder by withholding information from us. She's not gullible. I need some way to get her to give us information, and fast, so I can tell Sam what he needs to know."

"I'll do my best, Admiral." Dr. Beeks replied. "We'll see what Ziggy can find. In the meantime, drop in on Sam and tell him what we've got so far."

"Aliens?" Sam asked dryly. This guy was completely NUTS! Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wondered if Scully would believe anything this Mulder guy was saying. He listened to Mulder's wild theory as they wound down the corridor. According to Mulder, their new case was an alien virus. Mulder's eyes danced as he watched Sam's face wrinkle and widen in obvious disbelief.

"Scully, originally, they thought that DNA were viral infections. What if they were right the first time? What if colonization is happening through this virus?"

Sam only huffed and shook his head in disbelief as they approached the office.

"Haven't you heard of Occum's Razor?" Sam suggested, opening the door. Al was already waiting for Sam inside the office, invisible to Mulder. He leered with a cigar in tow.

"Hello beautiful!" He crowed and quickly tapped the ashes on the floor. Sam made a face in his general direction, glad for Al's sake that Mulder couldn't see or hear the hologram. "Can I have a word with you, gorgeous? Your place or mine, sexy?" Al chuckled. With a push of a couple of buttons, he popped out.

"We've been through that, Scully!" Mulder was saying. One thing you could say for him, Sam thought, he wasn't gullible. Paranoid schizophrenic, maybe...but not gullible, and definitely out to prove something with everything he did. Sam could tell Mulder was barely keeping his feet from jumping up and down with excitement as he started the slide projector and began explaining theories. As much as Mulder irritated Sam, there was something about his enthusiasm and drive that was contagious.

"There's simply no logical explanation for these deaths, Scully." Mulder handed him three autopsy reports. "I like the part where it says the virus is of no known origin. So...keep me honest...what's your opinion?" Sam was really glad he had a medical-doctor's stomach as Mulder flipped through the slides, and more than half-surprised that Mulder wanted his opinion. The faces weren't even recognizable-eaten through all the way with what looked like acid. Mulder walked away from the slide projector and popped a few sunflower seeds in his mouth.

"Mulder, a human could have done this, or maybe a carnivorous fungus. I tell you what? While I look at these reports, why don't you go get us some coffee."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." Mulder mocked, and sold Sam and Al the time they needed to evaluate the situation.

"Al!" Sam hissed. Al appeared in his imaging chamber door, wolf- whistling. Sam glowered at him.

"So what's the deal, Al? Here I was thinking I was finally going to have a nice quiet leap, but then this Mulder guy blabs endlessly about aliens! Tell me what I'm supposed to do so I can leap out of here."

"You are Dr. Dana Katherine Scully, Mulder's partner at the FBI here in

Washington, D.C. It is May 17, 2000..."

"Something that I _don't_ know?" he said, hoping Mulder didn't hear him when he came back with the coffee.

"So what do you think, Scully?" Mulder asked again, handing him a cup.

Sam nodded a thanks and gulped down a few sips. Al punched a few buttons on the handlink that fed him information from the project's database. His eyes widened when the whirring and beeping of the handlink finally stopped.

"In five days, Mulder is shot and killed in South Carolina."

The wheels were already turning in Sam's head, trying to figure out how he could stop Mulder from going to South Carolina when Mulder handed Sam Scully's plane ticket to the Charleston Airport.

"We better get cracking if we're going to make the flight." Mulder was saying, and started to pack up his things, getting ready to leave. For some reason, Sam knew that all would stop this man from going on the plane was a rain delay.

"Mulder, do you think it's absolutely necessary that we go to South Carolina? I mean…it's not as though we don't have enough work to do around here without this case." Sam thought he was pretty safe with that arguement, considering the mile-high stack of papers on the desk.

Sam could tell by the smirk now plastered on his face that Mulder was immensely enjoying trying to convince his partner.

"Scully, how many times have I been wrong on this? Yeah, I've got paperwork longer than "War and Peace" ahead of me, but the syndicate may be behind this. If they are, it just might be proof we need to bring them to justice." "After all they've done to you, to everything...how can you not want them stopped?" Sam hid his face to hide his confusion, thankful that Mulder took it as an opportunity for his partner to gain composure. "The airport in two hours, then?" Sam reluctantly nodded, wishing Al would come back with more information and wondering who in the world the syndicate was, and what they had done to Scully. Mulder was one of the good guys, and Sam knew he couldn't let anything happen to him.

Project Quantum Leap Headquarters

"Frohike is a who-not a what, not that that warrants an answer." Scully fumed. Al looked embarrassed. Scully was proud of herself that she was holding the cards. They couldn't do anything without her information-and the only thing that would have made Scully consent would be hypnosis against her will, especially if it was information needed to get to Mulder.

"That's not how this project works, Dr. Scully. We can't let you come with us. I'm the only one allowed to be with Dr. Becket, and even that isn't direct contact." Al was saying calmly. "Just know we're doing everything we can to help your partner. Dr. Becket is very qualified, and it is in Mulder's best interest that you tell us what you know about him."

Scully was livid. They weren't giving her answers, and for God's sake, where was Mulder, and why did they want information on him?

Al was persistant. "How can I convince you that this is real?" A smirk spread across her face as Scully contrived a plan. She knew she had them now. If this was a joke, then the boys would get a good laugh when she called and she could kill them later. If she was being detained, then of course they wouldn't let her use a phone. If Mulder was in real trouble, then they'd be able to break into their database and help. "By any chance, can I get a phone?

"I don't think that's a good idea, Dr. Scully." Scully stiffened and recoiled away from Al as she realized the second scenario was true. Then Dr. Beeks came over.

"Admiral, it may be the only way she'll give us any information." She handed him a phone, calling Scully's bluff.

"Let her find out for herself."

"Let me find out *what* for myself?" Scully demanded. She took the phone as if it were going to explode.

Dr. Beeks and Al both had expressions on their faces as if they were waiting anxiously for test results as she dialed the numbers.

"Yo! What's the deal?" Frohike answered.

"Hey boys, can you see what you can find about Admiral Calavici and a Dr. Beeks?" Frohike's muffled hiss came over the phone. Al and Dr. Beeks watched Scully's quizzical expression as she wondered why Frohike was whispering.

"Who is this?" Frohike interrogated. "How did you get this number?"

"Frohike, it's me! Hey listen, tell Mulder-"

Frohike cut her off. "Mulder's been dead for about fifteen years now." Frohike was getting anxious. "Who is this?" Then, he muffled the receiver, "Langly-!"

Scully abruptly hung up and froze, immediately paling. "Could you tell me what is going on here?" Scully finally managed to croak out in a huffed whisper.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the years, Sam had developed techniques for getting to the homes of the people he was leaping into without having to drive aimlessly for hours. If Mulder hadn't bolted off as quickly as he had, Sam would've feigned car trouble and asked for a ride home. Now he was going to have to find her driver's licence to look for an address to tell a cabby. Unfortunately for Sam, Scully didn't carry a purse. It would have been a little bit easier for him to get a feel for who this lady was if she had been the sort of woman to carry one. The click and sweep of Al's chamber door opening made him start.

"We're having a little trouble getting information out of Dr. Scully. She's feisty!" Al took a puff of his cigar and grinned. "You're *NOT* helping." Al had a knack for using his sense of humor to get on Sam's nerves, especially when things were *not* going well.

"The contents of a woman's heart can be found in her purse." Sam glared at him, making Al very glad he was a hologram so that he couldn't be punched in the nose.

"Of course..." Al continued, "the contents of a man's heart can be found in his...uh...nevermind. She doesn't carry a purse."

"Could you get your mind out of the gutter for two seconds here?" Sam hissed, pacing like something caged. After a few minutes of digging around, Sam struck gold. In the left inside pocket rooming with a clipper, Sam found a very organized wallet thankfully containing enough money to hail a cab.

He finally got to see what the woman he had lept into looked like in the rear view mirror of the cab from the backseat. In his reflection, he saw Scully's straight auburn hair framing a fair-skinned oval face with topaz blue eyes. Al sat on the passanger side, even climbing in after him.

"If you aren't going to help here, then I suggest you go back and try to get information from Dr. Scully!" Sam hadn't realized that so loud.

"Dr. Scully?" the cab driver puzzled, Sam forgot that he still had his FBI tag on Scully's lapell.

"Yes-I-was-um"

"Rehearsing." Al helped. "My uncle used to tell me that my 3rd...or was it my fourth?...wife would rehearse what she'd say to me when she got mad."

"Reeee-hearsing?" Sam flashed a confused glance at Al.

"Yeah! Uh...I was rehearsing what I'd say to my no-good gi...boyfriend when I got home."

"I'd hate to be him! Hey, if it doesn't work out with you two, you give old Vito a call!"

Sam hated backing himself into these corners. Leaping had complications in and of itself. Leaping into a woman was another complication altogether.

"I-uh-I'll do that." He said, practically tossing him the fee and thrilled that the cabride was over. Sam could not have gotten out of the cab faster.

He dug around the pocket to find a cluster of keys. He found one with her apartment number on it and opened the door. Thrilled to find it neat and organized, it didn't take him long to find a carry-on, a few business suits and the rest of the litany he would need for the trip.

"Al, Dr. Scully is a member of the FBI. What are the FBI doing investigating murders linked to aliens? I didn't think anyone took that stuff seriously except for you, Hollywood and the tabloids!"

Al shook his head. "We don't know, Sam. Ziggy's trying to pick the lock, but so far, we can't get in. We had to break your rule about not letting any of the leapers know about the project, because she wouldn't believe us otherwise. She's a very level- headed professional, and makes your anal-retentiveness look sloppy. My guess is you could find something about her work if you looked on her computer files." He gestured in the general direction of her computer desk.

Sam fished around her desk, found a folder of disks, and close to the top was one with 'log' penciled in on the label.

"I wonder if that's it?" Al chortled. "Think you'll sleep much in the hotel room tonight, Sam?" Sam made a face.

"With reading material like this?" He said in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

"It's numero uno on the New York Times best-seller list." Al said with a grin and chuckled at himself.

Sam didn't feel like laughing.

Having to hunt down a reasonable explanation for bodies that barely resembled humans were bad enough with a *full* night's sleep. Being hit on was arguably not that much worse of an ordeal.

"Think we can get a password on this disk any time soon?"

"I'll see what I can find out from the good doctor. Meanwhile, from the looks of things, sit tight, buckle your seatbelt, keep your hands inside the windows, and enjoy your flight. Don't forget to freshen up!"

Before Sam could say anything in retort, Al was gone.

He found a laptop in the desk drawer and packed it in Scully's carry-on with the rest of his things. Al was right, he would need a shower and change into something more comfortable. He took his time in the shower, and found some slacks and a top. Thankfully for Sam's sake, Scully wasn't the sort of woman to be frilly. Dr. Sam Beckett, inventor of a time machine, who had finely tuned the principals of quantum physics with enough PhD.'s behind his name to make alphabet soup, by some cruel twist of fate could *not* apply mascara.

Quantum Leap Headquarters

Al went back inside the imaging chamber to find a very shocked Scully still staring at the phone still in bits on the floor. Scully had a look as though she was as shattered as the phone was. It was a very long time before she could speak. She was shaking, "What is this? What is going on here?" She whispered hoarsely. I—-don't understand...last thing I knew, I had just gotten to the office for the day...we...he..was about to tell me his theory about the deaths in South Carolina...I...uh...there's no..."

Al put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He really had sympathy for her. "Anything you know concerning circumstances around the death of Agent Mulder would be extremely helpful to us...to him...and to you.

"The-*death*-of..." She repeated hoarsely for the words for them to sink in.

Quantum Leap Headquarters: Henceforth known as QLHDQRTRS

Scully could not-did not want-to believe what she was hearing. "I don't understand. This doesn't have any place for logic! I- Mulder-was *fine* just a few minutes ago. A few minutes ago we were in the office. Now I give Frohike a call, and he says Mulder's been dead for 15 years. Please, Admiral-"

"Al, call me Al please. Dr. Scully...all I can tell you right now is that your partner is alive." Al felt like Scully deserved to be on a first name basis after all she had just been through.

"Al..." she softened. "I just want to know the truth. Please, tell me what the hell is happening here!"

Al laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Let me assure you. For now, your partner is exactly how you left him. I know it isn't easy to accept on a stranger's word. But believe me, Dr. Scully-"

"Dana—Dr. Scully…"

"Scully's just fine."

"We're doing everything we can right now to help your partner. For the next five days, Dr. Beckett has swapped souls with you, so to speak. This," he flung his arms opened wide "is all his invention. He's one of the most dedicated men I've ever met-"

"Men? A man's taken over my body? Oh brother!"

She giggled at the thought of Mulder flirting with her if he knew she were a man. That would just be weird! Al suddenly felt a pang of guilt for all his comments earlier that day. "I'm sorry. Go on, Al."

"At any rate, we're doing our best to make sure that what happens to Fox—doesn't. What we need now from you is any information you can give us about Agent Mulder. It would be great if you could start with a list of possibilities as to why he might have been killed, and who might have wanted him dead."

"We could be here all day." Scully said with a frustrated laugh. "We're FBI agents. We've put a lot of people in jail. And Fox Mulder isn't exactly the easiest man to get along with. He's stepped on a lot of toes over the years, including mine. Since I joined the x-files seven years ago, I've been on that list about seventy percent of the time." Then she hesitated with a guilty smile. "I even had to shoot him once." Al raised an eyebrow. She quickly defended herself.

"Let me rephrase the question, then. Tell me everything you know about Agent Mulder."

Scully began to relay her involvement in the x-files from the moment Mulder said "Welcome to the FBI's most unwanted."

FBI Headquarters J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington, DC-Our favorite basement office May 17, 2015. 11:15am

Agent John Doggett was getting ready to grab an early lunch before making some inquiries for an x-file when the phone his cell phone rang. With a heavy sigh, he answered it. "Hey, Langly."

"Frohike just got a really wicked phone call from some guy..." there was a long pause.

"Langly!" Doggett was fuming. "If this is another attempt to get me to hunt down a distributor company because you got some phone pitch on your unlisted line I-"

"No...nothing like that...it...just wigged us out...thought you might wanna check up on it."

"Sorry about that...just in a bit of hurry, and I...uh..."

"Anyway," Langly interrupted, obviously eager with his news; "this dude called Frohike's line wanting us to say something to Mulder."

Doggett's attentions were undivided now. Mulder was a name he hadn't heard in fifteen years since he began investigation into his murder. Leads that followed nowhere led him to partnership with Agent Scully, which eventually put him in persuit of what his partner often called "little green men."

"He wanted us to look up someone named Al-" Doggett heard the sound of paper rustling. "Calavici...Admiral, I think."

"Were you guys able to get a tap on the guy?"

"That would be a negative, John. We tried call-back but it didn't work. He hung up, man. We found somethin' you may wanna see on this Calavicci dude."

"Damn! Tell'em I'm on it. I'll see what I can do about getting another agent to handle this case, I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up, sighed heavy as a brick, and slung his coat around his arm and gulped down the last of his second cup of coffee for that morning, pocketted his cell phone and locked the door behind him.

Washington, D.C. Airport May 17, 2000, 11:45

Mulder had called an hour earlier saying he'd be there in a half an hour.

"You still haven't told me your opinion on this case." Mulder started almost as soon as they got in the car. Sam was relieved that Scully shared his medical background.

"Yeah, I was looking at those reports. They said that they found traces of bromide, sodium, and chlorine on those bodies...which is odd because..."

"that's seawater..." Mulder interrupted.

"Somebody did their homework."

"Do I get an A?"

Sam suppressed the sudden urge to strangle him. "Anyway, there's something else in the report..."

Mulder waited for Sam's answer.

"Ammonia."

"House cleaner?"

Sam nodded.

"Maybe the killer's a neatfreak."

Sam made a face in his general direction. Before they knew it, they were at the airport. Sam went to the giftshop to pick up a newspaper. He always enjoyed reading the headlines as a reference.

"What made you change your mind about planes, Scully?

Usually you're a nervous wreck by now. Last time you flew you were looking so bad, I was ready to investigate the airline food for alien bacteria."

Sam cracked a smile. "Yeah...well...I...uh...took some dramamine."

"Good!" A mischeivous grin spread across his face. "That means that while you're asleep I can flirt with the stewardesses."

For a brief moment, Sam wondered if Scully wasn't the one who had murdered Mulder; at this point, he wouldn't have blamed her if she had.

The flight was only two and a half hours. Sam didn't have to wait long into it before Mulder dozed off. He contended himself with reading the newspaper util he was sure that Mulder was asleep. Then gingerly got out Scully's laptop on it, and inserted the disk. Sam's curiosity was getting the best of him.

He needed Al to come back with the password. There were several things about this leap that just didn't make any logical sense. What was ammonia doing with sea water? Why were the FBI investigating aliens? Maybe that answer could be a link to yet another, even bigger, and more pressing question-what was he going to do to stop Mulder from being killed? He was so deep in his train of thoughts and concentrating so hard on trying not to wake Mulder with the clicks and whirs and beeps of the computer that he didn't notice Al's chamber door open.

"We got something, Sam."


	4. Chapter 4

Sam gulped down a scream. "For once, can you give me some warning here?"

"I'm sorry miss, next time I'll alert the presses when we come around with the drink cart. Perhaps you'd like me to announce it over the loudspeakers?" Sam flashed the stewardess a sheepish grin. Al was in hysterics, not ignoring his view of her as she walked past.

"So? Whatchya got?"

"Well...according to the local papers, they were investigating a possible alien virus in Newberry, South Carolina. Mulder makes some inquiries into the reports two days into the investigation, and isn't seen alive again. As it turns out, the x-files are the division of the FBI that investigate paranormal, unexplained, or otherwise unsolvable cases."

"Dissolved human tissue would definately fit paranormal, unexplained, and otherwise unsolvable." noted Sam.

"Anyway, three days later his body is found in the woods. After that, the records show that an Agent John Doggett takes over the x-files investigations at the FBI under Dana, and they stay on with the x-files for another seventeen years. During that time, she has a child, interestingly using Mulder's last name, divorces once, and later commits suicide after her child dies in a freak car accident."

"So I've basically got two days to come up with someone-"

"Dana said the someone isn't the hard part...she says he's got a long list of people out for his blood. You'd like her Sam-she reminds me a lot of you."

"Well...then I've got two days to narrow down the list."

"You want my advice?" Sam nodded.

"Stick to him like fishnets to a prostitute. Sleeping Beauty over there looks like he's coming out of it. Talk to him, Sam. Get as much information as you can from Mulder. Later tonight, we'll go over the logbook to find out more. Meanwhile, I'll go back and see what I can get from you-uh-Dana. Oh, and try Starbuck for the-" Al called behind him. "

One minute" then to Sam "-password-Hang on a sec!" Al yelled behind him.

"From the FBI? Goushie! Tell Mr. Doggett I'll be right there!" then to Sam. "I've gotta take this call, Sam. Meanwhile, do the best you can, and have a nice flight!" With a grin and a click and a sweep of the chamber door, Al was gone.

Sam could tell this was going to be a long leap.

*TLG Lair*

Agent Doggett kept in contact with The Lone Gunmen over the years since Mulder's murder fifteen years ago. They were weird and a bit paranoid, but they were an invaluable resource of information, and proved themselves loyal on more than one occasion to the x-files division.

Doggett never really forgave himself for not finding Mulder's killer. The day they put him on the case, he promised Scully he would find him, but that turned out to be a promise he couldn't keep. Doggett sighed heavily as he made his way down the stairs and rang the doorbell. Doggett was used to all the equipment in the lair by now. The numerous padlocks on the door were second- nature to him.

"Hey G-Puppy!" Langly greated him enthusiastically.

"So whatchya got?" Doggett took out his glasses and crouched over the computer screen behind Langly, who was happily pecking away on the keyboard.

"So this dude calls...asking us to look up Dr. Sam Becket and Dr. Al Calavici. On Dr. Becket, we have two options. He's either a playwright

or a physicist.

"B?" Doggett interjected

"Tell him, Byers...what Deputy PuppyDog won!" Langly chirpped. Doggett flashed him an annoyed glance

"Turns out that Dr. Becket is a physicist who wrote papers about time travel," Byers began, handing Doggett a novel-length stack of print-outs. "He uses Einstein's theory of relativity and quantum physics, making time no longer linear but circular using some sort of electromagnetic photon excellerator device. According to this, he headed up a project based in Roswell, NM. A highly classified and government-funded outfit dubbed Quantum Leap back in '99, and after that there's no record."

"And what about Calavici?"

"I have him listed here as an Admiral with involvement in the Quantum Leap project."

"You got a number?

"Of course!" and triumphantly handed Doggett the number for the project headquarters.

"Langly, you think you can crack the project database?"

"It's what I live for, G."

Frohike came in just before Doggett was about to leave.

"You wanna come over and watch the Nick's game with us?

We're gonna hack into the scoreboard computer. It should be a blast." Frohike was as excited as Frohike gets.

"As much as I'd like to, I've got homework tonight." He lifted up the stack of papers.

Doggett sighed in exasperation as he found his way out, hoping Calavici would have a lead to Mulder's killer that he so desperately needed.

May 17, 2001 3:04 pm

In the middle of nowhere along I-26 East in SC

The flight only lasted an hour and a half and Mulder was quick to get a rental car from the airport. He took his usual place in the driver's seat, and Sam took Scully's usual place in the passenger's seat next to him.

An hour had gone by, and questions where reeling over and over in Sam's mind. He wanted to read a bit more of the log book, but knew that if he looked over Scully's old entries, Mulder would get suspicious. He wanted to try to get information from Mulder, and usually the best way to do that was from conversation. But how could he start a conversation with a man he had just met of whom this Scully woman was supposed to know for seven years.

Mulder's driving made Sam feel a bit queasey, and more than once Sam wondered if his life was in danger from that seat. He decided it would be best for everything concerned if he let the oldies' station Mulder landed on fill the silence.

The silence.

Mulder couldn't understand why Scully was so silent. It wasn't the companionable silence this time that was their norm, but an uncomfortable forced silence. She kept glancing over at him. Then again, there were a lot of things about Scully that he couldn't understand...like why she stayed with him on his crusade at the FBI...like why she made meals out of salads...and why she hated Elvis.

But today was different.

A woman who hated flying as much as Scully did wasn't looking a bit nervous or green going onto the plane. She didn't even frown at his tie (this one featured a glow-in-the-dark picture of Einstein's face). If she hadn't objected to the case being an x- file, he would have panicked long before now.

But then again...maybe he should panic. There was that look- That look on her face this morning like Scully didn't know who he was had absolutely terrified him. And now this silence. Why was she being so quiet?

He wanted desperately to try and understand why she wasn't saying anything. He rode on the unfortunate tails of other drivers along the highway. He snaked in and out of lanes at top speed. Maybe if he drove wrecklessly enough, Mulder thought, he could at least get her to rip into him. That would be something. But still Sam remained silent.

And Mulder's stomach responded painfully to his concern. Scully just wasn't being-well-Scully. Before this morning, he could have bet quite easily on what she would say and do. Scully was really scaring him now. She had never been this quiet for this long. Something was definitely up. He fixated his eyes on the road trying not to show Scully how puzzled he was by her behavior, and how concerned he was for her safety…and his.

If he couldn't predict her anymore as easily as he could-how could he be sure that Scully would be there when he needed her. What if he got in too deep again? He didn't think he could take it if he lost her again. He wanted more than anything to get inside Scully's head...he needed the Scully he could trust.

Finally, after an hour of the blare of the radio, Mulder couldn't take it anymore.

"Scully, what's wrong?" Mulder finally blurted out. "-and if you say you're fine I'll tell Frohike you've got the hots for him!"

Mulder's demand jerked Sam back to reality. Who was Frohike? He was in a half-sleeping gaze on the horizon trying to come up with ways to get Mulder to give him information. "Wrong?" He asked weakly.

Mulder softened with concern. "Scully...you haven't said a word the whole trip." Mulder was pleading now. "Scully... please... it's me...you've been acting like another person all day long. If something's up...please tell me. I want to help."

Sam gave Mulder his customary answer whenever people acted like this.

"Nothing's wrong...I'm just not quite myself is all." Sam thought, and wondered for a flash of a second what Mulder would do if he knew Scully wasn't Scully. Or what he'd do if Mulder found out. Mulder thought that was the understatement of the century.

"So far away."

Carole King was squealing over the radio.

"Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? And it doesn't help to know that you're just time away." Mulder snuck a peak over at Sam's half-gaze and wondered exactly how far away Scully was. Sam wondered how long it would be before he got to go home.

May 17, 2015 12:04

Langly, VA, en route from TLG Headquarters

Technological advancements in the fifteen years Doggett had been working on the x-files did not include a third hand...which was unfortunate for him since he was juggling a cup of coffee, a meatball sandwich, and a cellphone with the wheel. He wolfed down the last of his sandwich, gulped down half of his coffee, and dialed his superior.

"Skinner here."

"Hey boss. Got something interestin' you might wanna see."

"What's going on?" Skinner was very thankful that Scully hadn't told Doggett about the old nickname Mulder had for him, or if she had, Doggett didn't use it.

"I got something here that you may want in on. I don't want to- uh-tell you on the phone."

Skinner's tone was anxious now. Almost immediately Doggett could tell his boss was clinching his jaw in fear. Skinner's tone was filled with dread.

"Get down here as soon as possible, and we'll-"

"Everything's FINE." Doggett quickly interjected. He enjoyed lighting Skinner's fuse every now and then. It was one of the perks of his job. Doggett cracked a smile as he heard Skinner heave a sigh of relief.

"Look, I'll be there in a few minutes and tell you what I got."

Doggett then dialed the number Langly had given him for this Admiral Calavicci.

May 17, 2015; 9:24

Quantum Leap Headquarters, Roswell NM.

All the waiting was driving Scully absolutely crazy. In the project's waiting room, she paced like something caged. She barely heard the phone ring out in the hall. She flashed back to her own abduction, and suddenly understood why Mulder was so protective over her. He didn't even have the luxuries she had of knowing where she was and that she was alive. She would have to be a little easier on him when Sam returned her body to her. Still, she wanted to see him for herself. She was beginning to trust Al, but couldn't quite bring herself to believe that this Becket man was going to do as good a job as she would have on the case, or of protecting Mulder.

This Becket had no idea of the degree to which Mulder could be a complete ass- nor how sneaky and underhanded he had been with her in the past-nor how much she needed him to be alright. Saving Mulder's life was a job to Becket. To Scully, it was a necessity. She needed to see that he was going to do her job to her satisfaction with her own eyes.

Al suddenly came in with an anxious expression on his face. What Al had come to say was obviously not good news, and Scully braced herself for whatever Al was going to tell her.

"Dana, who does your friend Frohike know at the FBI?"

"Just me, Mulder, and our boss, Skinner. Frohike isn't exactly sociable."

"You know who John Doggett is?" Scully had no idea. It did sound familiar though. Maybe she had heard it on the news somewhere.

"He just called me wanting information on Mulder. I know your brain is a bit swiss-cheezed right now from the leap, but if you can remember anything at all, it would help us a lot."

Dr. Beeks came over to him and ushered him asside.

"Al, he was just questioning, and that's all. Please calm down. Dr. Scully doesn't need anymore shocks today. The agent has no leads, and won't investigate any further till he does."

"Verbeena, I realize that, but I can't let word of the project leak out. It may leak to the press, and then the public would find out about this, and no more funds come in for the project. If the project shuts down, we leave Sam out there alone. I can't risk that."

"I know Al...but please, just let us deal with that when and if the situation arises. We don't even have a problem yet. At least not with the FBI. I suggest you update Dr. Scully on Sam's progress."

Al heaved a reluctant sigh and went over to Scully, and greeted her with an apologetic smile.

"Dana, uh...sorry about that back there."

"It's alright, I would have probably done the same thing if Mulder were stuck back there."

Al finally understood the depth of the friendship between Scully and Mulder. He wondered if he should be helping Scully somehow from this end as much as Sam should help Mulder. They walked over to the couch in the waiting room and sat down.

"Right now, we really don't know a whole lot more than you do as to what's going on. They're probably on their way to the case site in Newberry at this moment, so there's nothing we can do right now until Sam finds out more from Mulder. For now, nothing's changed in the reports. Just know we're doing everything we can."

Scully sighed heavily. Al hated disappointing her with no news.

"Al?" She said, and then paused for quite a long time. Then, in a slow, steady, determined tone, demanded "I need to see Mulder." "I'm afraid that can't be arranged, Dana, I'm sorry." It was his turn to drop eye contact. He scattered a nervous sigh. "I told you before, I'm the only one allowed to see Sam."

"If it can't be arranged does that mean that it is possible?" She pressed.

Al didn't answer.

Same day 1:07 PM

J. Edgar Hoover FBI Headquarters, Skinner's office

Doggett showed Skinner the doctoral theses Byers gave him by Dr. Becket. Skinner wore a very confused expression over his face as he glanced over the titles of Sam's papers.

"I don't get it, Doggett. What do time travel theories and quantum physics and Einstein have to do with Mulder?"

Skinner was getting impatient now.

"John, I think I may have a lead as to what happened to Mulder."

"Mulder? Doggett-sometime's your theories are as completely out in left field as Mulder's were. I still don't get it. What's the correlation here? Maybe that desk he used is rubbed off." Doggett was seriously enjoying watching his boss hang on to his words. He could barely hold in a grin.

"Our boys got a call this morning. Now don't get your hopes up because I don't know that much at this point, and what I say can NOT, under any circumstances, be passed on to Scully." Skinner nodded.

"Frohickey got a call on his cell this morning asking him to tell Mulder something."

Skinner's expression urged Doggett to continue.

"The boys traced the call to Roswell New Mexico at the location of a project called Quantum Leap, headed by a Dr. Sam Becket and an Admiral by the name of Albert Calavici."

"Any leads?"

"Nothing solid yet. That's why I don't want word of this to get to Scully."

"What are you going to do about the case you and Scully are working on now?"

"I'm going to ask Scully if she can handle the case while I look into this."

"How are you going to get her to take the interviews without letting her in on all of this?" Doggett hadn't thought past that obstacle yet.

"You think she's up to it?"

"She better be...for Mulder's sake."

"Alright, Agent." Skinner was trying to hide his excitement which came at the price of sounding detatched about Doggett's new information. He never really forgave himself for being even part of the reason Melissa did not know her father. Maybe, Skinner thought, the ghosts that Mulder had left behind could finally be put to rest now that investigation to his murder was finally going somewhere. "I'll see what I can do about getting Kersch to re-open the investigation. That'll be all."

Almost as soon as Doggett shut the door behind him, Skinner was finding it hard to breathe. He felt his heart racing and beads of sweat pour down his face. He clutched his left shoulder and fell on his knees, doubled over in pain.


	5. Chapter 5

Newberry on U.S. 29

Mulder had gotten the directions for the local restaraunt strip from Sherrif Hayward. He and Sam were on their way.

"Applebees sounds good." Mulder commented as he saw a sign for one off in the distance. Then he cracked a grin. "They've got everything there. Rabbit food for you, heartattack special for me."

Sam nodded in approval, having no idea what an Applebees restaraunt was like.

"It wouldn't hurt you to eat a little healthier, you know."

Sam protested. He figured it was something Scully might have said, and it added conversation, at least...even if it did annoy Mulder.

"Hey! I'm healthy!" Mulder protested.

"Not for long with the way you're eating lately."

"Yeah, well...my work on the x-files has a way of making me realize that I probably won't die of a heart attack at age sixty. So I figure, why live on bird rations?" Mulder pulled the car into the parkinglot. Sam sincerely hoped his realization wouldn't come sooner than Mulder thought.

It was a Saturday night. They had to wait for about a half an hour for a booth. Sam thought this was a good opportunity to find out who Mulder knew that might be a good shot.

"Mulder, do you think we're getting in a little over our heads with this investigation? There seem to be only about 5 professionals in the whole town. It looks to me like the sea- water and the ammonia were placed there by humans. What do you think?"

"Yeah...you could be right Scully." The hostess came over and lead them to the booth. "It could just be a really big practical joke of some nephew of the morticians who's a member of a nearby college. Clemson's around here, isn't it?"

"You think someone would go to the trouble to pull a stunt like that?"

"Oh yeah!" He slurped his beer which had just arrived. "I remember once in Oxford, our frat pulled this stunt on the Dean. While he was out of town, some of the rich boys pooled together and bribed the houseworkers..." his grin was about to explode with a story.

"What did you do?" Sam said, instinctively feeling sorry for the Dean.

"While he was on vacation, we made his whole mansion up to look like a crypt! We blew up condoms for wings and the president told the Dean he had died" They both were scarcely able to keep from rolling in the floor now. It was a few minutes before Mulder could burst out, "In Latin!"

"The poor guy!" Sam and Mulder were both doubled over in hysterics on their sides of the booths, wiping tears away from laughing so hard. Sam sobered up when Mulder's cell phone rang. Laughter was perkalating just below the surface of their voices.

"It's probably Skinner calling." They both burst into fits of laughter. It was difficult for Mulder to contain his decorum when he answered the phone.

It wasn't difficult for Sam to regain composure when he saw the expression on Mulder's face. "Hey, Scully, I gotta run to the restroom. I'll be right back. Order for me, ok?" "Heart attack special?" Sam quoted. From the look on Mulder's face after he hung up, Sam got the idea that he wasn't going to the restroom to answer nature's call.

"You got it."

The waitress came by and Sam ordered both of them a cob salad. If Sam had anything to do with the situation, Mulder wasn't going to die in five days, or of a heart attack in twenty years. He had to make sure Mulder was going to be around for a while.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked. Mulder grimaced at the cob salad and smothered it in ranch dressing that scully had ordered for him on the side.

"All I wanted tonight is a coronary-a-plate!" Mulder whined.

"You know how I feel about salads, Scully." Mulder was avoiding the question, and made a disgusted face as he tried to gather up all the sunflower seeds, cheese, bacon bits and ham and took a bite.

"I thought you were going to be more cooperative tonight to get me to talk."

Mulder flashed a relenting grin.

"What's going on, Mulder?" Sam persisted.

"It was just Skinner, is all."

Sam knew he was lying, and what's more, Sam could tell that Mulder knew that he knew, so he decided to drop the subject for now.

Mulder took another slurp of beer. "You wouldn't pull any practical jokes, Scully."

Sam flashed a knowing grin.

"Scully! Not you! Not my responsible ... sensible ... quiet- evening-lover Scully pull a practical joke!"

They both burst into laughter again.

Sam decided to tell about a practical joke he had heard of a few hours ago.

"Back in med school...we got this guy in this awful get up with a tiger-striped pants and a pink leopard-spot hat, a red tie and a royal blue shirt to come tell this girl...not at all like me...that she had swapped souls and was now part of a time- travel experiment!"

"Oh my God! Scully, that's priceless! What happened?"

"We told her that she had swapped souls with a man!" They were both roaring now, everyone turned they're heads to see what was going on.

"I had no idea you were capable of something like that, Scully! I'll have to remember that one next time you don't believe one of my theories." Suddenly Sam wasn't laughing so hard.

"Mulder? You were in a frat?"

"Yeah. It was sort of a law at Oxford. You seem surprised."

"You don't strike me as the typical frat boy." Sam laughed.

"I was ever typical?" Mulder looked disappointed. "Let's say we call it a night, huh Scully?" Mulder said with a sigh. They got the check and rose from the table. "It's been a long day. I'm beat." Sam suddenly remembered that he had a night of reading ahead of him, and didn't object.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet...not the uncomfortable quiet that had existed before, but the kind of quiet that comes when there's just nothing left to say. They climbed out of the car and Mulder said goodnight before heading into his room. Sam turned on the T.V. in Scully's room and waited till he was sure he didn't hear any more movement coming from Mulder's side. He didn't want Mulder barging in on reading Scully's old log- entries. To be on the safe side, he locked his door, got out the laptop, turned it on, popped in the disk, and typed in "STARBUCK" when the password was asked for. It had worked, and Sam spent the next few hours reading the past seven years of Scully's involvement of the x-files.

He couldn't believe how much these agents had been through. It was a while before Al had come back to update him on the project.

"Al-Mulder and Scully-both have missing parts of their memories like me. Listen to this, Al." He began to read one of the last entries from Scully's logbook that seemed to say it all. "Mulder had lost all of his family, on many occasions his sanity, and had come back from the brink of death more times than I had cared to count. I have been abducted (although Sam had doubted it was by aliens), lost a sister, had cancer, and my ability to have children-yet through it all, I have to cling to the truth I have fought for."

Part of Sam wanted to believe Scully's entries. Part of him wanted to hope that they weren't true.

"Yeah, she's been through a lot." Al said. "That's why we can't let anything happen to Mulder. Dana's finally beginning to understand the project. I think we should have more for you by tomorrow. I-uh-"

Al and Sam both exchanged alarmed glances, because at that moment Sam heard a terrified scream from Mulder's side of the room.

"SAAAAAAAAAAM! SCULLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEE!"

Without a word, Al's hologram glanced in through the wall. The image of half of Al's body was disconcerting at any hour, let alone two am after reading all night about monsters and aliens and everything else that went bump in the night.

"He's dreaming, Sam. Must be nightmares from Scully's abduction and about his sister."

"He knows who I am?" Sam puzzled. "I don't understand-how can he-see-" Scully's diaries never mentioned his sister's name. The voice was softer this time, very anxious and panicked.

"Scully, we gotta get Samantha outta there. We gotta find her Scully. She's not-oh no!" His voice trailed off into whimpers. Sam wondered briefly if he should wake him.

Sam heaved a huge sigh of relief as he realized that the Sam that Mulder was screaming in his nightmare wasn't he, but his sister. "Sam is his sister, Al. Not me." Then a wave of sadness swept over him. In his dreams, Mulder was creating his worst case scenario.

"Dana says this happens almost every time he's intensely worried about something before he goes to sleep. Especially if it's about a case."

"She knows what he does in his sleep?"

"Apparently. She says they are on a lot of cases where they need to be on location. They get adjoining rooms because it is the easiest for them to work. I guess hotel walls aren't thick. She's finally starting to understand how the project works. I think she's beginning to accept it now."

"Hey, Al..." Sam brainstormed, "What if you can get those friends of Dr. Scully's to get into the FBI database and get the x-file case this is on. I'm sure it would be in Scully's e-log if not on file. Maybe if we can get the information before Wednesday, I can solve the x-file, and Mulder won't be killed, and I can leap outta here."

"Good idea Sam! I'll see if they'll help us. Any luck at the examination today?"

Sam shook his head. "The mortician has the only key and is indisposed till Monday morning. We go in for the autopsies at 8. So for tomorrow, we're just going to have to stick with interviews." "Oh boy! Talk about your one-horse towns! Mulder's quiet now, so I'll let you get some sleep. 'Nite Sam."

It must have been four hours later when Sam found himself lying on an operating table. He couldn't see nobody or anything except huge machinery hovering above him. One was lowering, positioned for his naval-

Sam bolted up in Scully's bed. Flashbacks of leaper's experiences-especially intense ones, weren't unusual. Somehow, Dr. Sam Becket, whose realm of logic did not fit in with the existence of aliens or monsters and everything else that had been formerly only in his imagination, was completely unnerved by this one, because the things that went bump in the night-the stuff of Speilberg movies-were not make-believe, but were real parts of Scully's past. It was as if Scully's fears were now his own. Dreaming what had been part of her reality suddenly brought the x-files and its reality to something no longer ficticious and write-off-able, but solid and factual. Before the flashback, he had just been able to dismiss what Scully had written, remember what he had heard so many times in the past.

"Abductees seldom are able to stick to abduction stories, and fit certain demographics that make the scientific mind realize that abductees are not suffering from the post traumatic stress of being abducted by aliens, but suffering from the post- traumatic stress of being abused by their parents. Being abducted seems, in the minds of those who believe they have been abducted, like a much less horrifying conclusion." The abductions that he had read for hours on end were not something out of a Gene Roddenberry novel or a B-Grade science- fiction movie anymore-Scully's ordeal was reality now. He got up to wash his face-if nothing else than to make sure that something in that hotel room was reality.

May 17, 2015; 8:17pm QLHDQRTRS

Scully's afternoon in the project's waiting room had been spent going over with Al everything that had happened leading up to Sam's first leap and what had happened since up until Sam's soul-swap with her.

"What do you mean-of course there's nothing more there than friendship!" Scully protested.

"Dana, just checking for the progress of the leap." Al lied. He was more than slightly curious. "You said earlier about what he does in his sleep. I naturally had to wonder."

Scully now had a rising defensive tone in her voice. "That's only because we spend a lot of time traveling for cases, and we get adjoining rooms to make it easier to work. I can hear his screaming through the walls."

Al raised a questioning eyebrow, but Scully didn't give him anymore insight into their relationship. The truth was, she didn't have all that much more insight herself.

"Just asking. If you are involved, Dr. Becket and I should know." Al coughed nervously. "Sorry if I overstepped my bounds."

"It's ok, Al." Scully fidgited a little. She felt like she owed Al a little bit of an explanation into their relationship. It was more than a working one. "Mulder-we have a deep friendship that is built on respect that has been formed naturally after spending the better part of seven years together watching each other's backs. I'd do anything for him...and I'm sure he'd do anything for me. Simple as that." Complicated as that.

"Oh. Thanks for letting us know." Al couldn't help but think there was a little something more, and hinted as much in his tone.

Scully suddenly gave Al a guilty smile, and an exasperated sigh. "We're not a couple at all." Scully said in an exasperrated tone

Again Al only raised a questioning eyebrow. Not that he was the expert on love advice. He had been married and divorced as many times as you have fingers on your right hand, and was currently dating the logistics specialist, Tina...but he couldn't help but sense that Scully wanted to talk to someone about exactly how much Mulder meant to her. "Dana, what you say to me you won't remember after the leap back if that helps."

"I think we're great friends but we'd never work as a couple. I just don't think he's ready to settle down. Not until he finds the truth he's looking for. He's always said that quest goes above everything else. Even if he was ready for a family, I could never give him children, and he deserves to be a father. Besides, if we had more than a friendship with him, the FBI would separate us as partners if we got romantically involved. He needs me-at least for now-as his partner. Not as his girlfriend."

Al cracked an understanding smile. "Not that a man who's been married five times is the best person for advice on the subject of amore, but have you ever tried telling him?"

"I think he knows how I feel."

"Scully, mind if I get a little personal here?"

"Al, I think soul-swapping is way beyond personal." Scully returned

Al chuckled a little. "You wanna know why I was married five times?" Scully nodded.

"My first wife, Beth, and I were head over heals when Vietnam broke out. We had just married, and she figured since I was in the Navy that I'd be leaving soon, so she wanted to start a family. I wasn't ready to be a parent yet, so we never had any. I was pretty sure she knew I loved her when I left for Vietnam. I was sure she loved me." Al's voice got angry now. "I survived 8 months catching what rain-water I could to survive in the Viet Kong prison camp, and living in a cage smaller than this desk off of grains of rice. The only reason I made it through that hell was thinking that Julie would be waiting for me when I got home. I never knew till then that I'd want kids. Anyway, I was released eventually when the war was over, and came home-only to find she had married someone else while I was gone."

"Al, I'm sorry."

Al gave her an "It's ok." smile.

"Just don't want anything like that to happen to either you or Mulder. If I were you, I'd consider that while I go check on Sam and see how the progress is going back in Newberry."

Scully sighed guiltily as Al left to go to the imaging chamber.

May 17, 2001; 4:47 Newberry Motor Inn; Newberry, SC

Sam had a hard time going to sleep after waking up from Scully's nightmare. It wasn't so much the disturbing scene that had torn him from sleep as much as it was the fact that what was in that dream shattered what he considered concrete and factual.

He spent the remaining hours of nightfall re-reading Scully's e- log, trying to understand what Mulder so obviously understood...trying to make sense of what he and Scully had been through in their persuit of the truth within the cases of the x- files. Sam knew exactly what it was like missing chunks of memory, and thought it might be a good thing for him to write Scully what had happened in his leap.

"Dr. Scully," he began.

"How are you?" Didn't seem to be the next logical line.

He struggled to try and explain to Scully exactly what had happened that day. He didn't know quite how. "Within the day that I have lept into your life within the x-files, I have not made any progress on changing your life. You, however, within the course of a day, have completely changed mine. How you have put up with your partner, Fox Mulder, for seven years is beyond me-but then again, so are a lot of things since this leap began.

I am Dr. Sam Becket, a physicist and a medical doctor from Indiana who has built a time machine. I have been leaping from body to body since 1999, and unlike one account I read, this time machine has enabled me to change a significant event in your life-not end a life. I cannot tell you what the change involves, but I feel that since I know what it is like to miss significant chunks of memory, I feel that I owe it to you to describe my time involved in your life.

Today, since the morgue was closed until Monday, we have made no progress, and will begin interviewing tomorrow. For you and Mulder, life is no different. Mulder is slightly suspicious that you are not here. Is he always this paranoid? We ate dinner at a restaraunt called Applebees tonight, and I ordered both of us a salad when he left for the restroom.

He wanted what he called the heartattack special. Is he always that stubborn? I sincerely hope that I can make a significant change for your future within the next few days. The events of today have changed my life completely. Logic is no longer as involved in my reality. You and your partner are involved in one of the greatest Truths man has ever known: the discovery that we are not alone. I hope that you and your partner find the Truth that you're looking for.

God Bless, Sam.

Sam had just shut off the computer when he heard the door shut on Mulder's side. Sam looked at the clock. It was only 5:30am. Scully wrote in her logbook that he didn't go in his morning jogs for another hour.

Sam unlocked the door on his side adjacent to Mulder's room and rapped on it.

"Mulder?"

No answer.

The bathroom door was open and he looked around for a wallet...keys...some sign that he was coming back sometime soon.

He was about to go back to Scully's room and get her cell phone when he heard the cranking of an engine.

Sam scrambled to shrug into a trenchcoat, wrapping it around him and shovelled Scully's flats into his feet. He looked outside to see the rental car rolling as noislessly as possible out of the hotel parkinglot.

Mulder was gone.

Sam felt his heart sink to his knees as he realized what was happening. It wasn't Wednesday yet! This was only Sunday! Mulder wasn't allowed to get killed until Wednesday!

"Mulder!" Sam yelled into the pre-dawn darkness after the tail lights in a vain attempt to get Mulder's attention so he'd turn around. Mulder headed out with the lights now on to I-29, not even looking in Sam's direction. He bolted off after the rental car, but Mulder wouldn't stop. He raced back to the hotel, hoping to get Sherrif Hayward's help.

"Al!" He yelped next, and began scrambling around Mulder's room for some clues as to where he had gone. Al had an apartment on the project complex, that way he could be there if Sam needed his help at any given time. "Al!" He called frantically. It wasn't long before Al appeared. Sam was pannicking. Pacing and cussing and panicking. Sam rarely cussed.

"Oh my God..." he gulped down a scream. "I haven't slept any tonight...I thought he was asleep...next thing I knew, slam..." he gestured out at the parking lot. "gone." He raked his hands up and down his face. "Center on him Al...I'll look around in his room for any hint as to where he is."

"Goushie, center me on Mulder NOW!" Al hollered into the air. He was involved in this leap by now as much as Sam was, and didn't know how well he would take it if something happened to Mulder. Al was glad that Scully was sleeping soundly in the waiting room, and not around when Sam called for his help. Sam scrambled around Mulder's nightstand, and found a business envelope with the words:

"To Starbuck from George E. Haley."

Starbuck was Scully's password. He knew the letter was for Scully.

What was Mulder doing with a letter from Mr. Haley to her? Was Mr. Haley the killer?

"George E. Haley...George E. Haley..." Sam racked his brain, trying to figure out where he had recognized the name. Then he rememberered it was Mulder's nom de plum from Scully's e-log.

"Mulder...you son of a..." He muttered as he opened the letter.

Starbuck: Please don't chase after me. This is my fight, not yours. I'll be back before we would have started this morning. George E. Haley.

"Dammit Mulder!" He shouted at the letter.

At that moment, Al popped in. "He's not far, Sam. About five miles

down the road, he's stopped in a parkinglot at a gas station."

Sam tried to wake Sherrif Hayward by the ringing the desk bell, but it was no use. He left an IOU on the top of the desk and hot-wired the sherrif's car, praying the whole time that the sherrif wouldn't wake up and slow him down. Al popped in the car and sat next to him.

"It's this one up ahead with no lights." Al shouted. Mulder was getting back into the rental car. Sam couldn't see who was in the other car. The other car tore out of the car, Mulder followed in hot persuit, and Sam followed close behind him.

Sam fumbled around for the sirens, hoping to get both the drivers to stop, but they sped on down 29, heading toward the interstate. The sky was beginning to pink up with the glow of the morning sunrise.

"Stay on him Sam." Al was urging. Al was just as nervous as Sam was.

Neither Mulder or the other driver was slowing down. The driver made a sudden U-Turn. The rental car and the sherrif's car jack-hammered in close persuit. The traffic was getting heavier closer to I-85. Morning rush hour was beginning, and the car ahead of him wove in and out of lanes, barely snaking around other drivers.

Mulder had to slam on breaks to avoid hitting another car that the other driver had skillfully blocked in Mulder's path.

Sam swerved over onto the meridian; he and Al watched helplessly as the rental car kareened through the gaurdrail, crumpling over a hill and landing on the driver's side over on a ditch. Sam darted between the morning commuters over to Mulder, who was lying on the side of the road. He had been thrown to the side, onto the pavement. There was a lot of blood, and Mulder wasn't conscious.

"You think we ought to get Scully?" Al asked. Sam nodded as he checked for a pulse. There was a nice, steady, strong one. For the first time that morning, Sam was hopeful. He knew he needed to call 911, but the traffic was coming in droves now, and he didn't want to leave Mulder alone out there. He somehow lifted Mulder's body with Scully's small frame over to the grass out of traffic's way.

It was Sunday morning. All the traffic was for church services later that morning. The commuters were bustling for the sacrements, pushing and shoving for distance and the right-of- way to get a better pew. Sam was praying hard and bustling around the remains of the car for anything that would help Mulder stay alive until the ambulance could get there. Mulder was scrambling for all the strength he had in him to regain consciousness.

He foridged around what was left of the crumpled rental car for Mulder's cell phone. He found it, and dialed 911. "I need an ambulance immediately. A federal agent's badly injured. Massive hemmorhage, possible internal injuries, multiple contusions and head trauma." He waited a minute, crouching anxiously over Mulder. "Steady pulse, and normal breathing for now."

Another pause. "Unconscious."

Just then he heard low, pained moans comming from Mulder, and heaved a huge sigh of relief.

"Scully?" He was a bit confused to see his partner there. He protested weakly. "This is my fight, I told you. How'd you-" Mulder's expression changed from one of groggy pain to alarm.

"Scully?" A look of panic swallowed his face.

"Mulder, you just got knocked around. That's all. You'll be alright in a couple of days. Just lie still till the ambulance gets here to make sure."

"Remember how I wanted a pegleg?"

Sam answered with a confused nod.

"Well, I've got two now."

Just then Al popped in holding Scully's hand. Scully's face wore an expression of shock. "You've got two?" Sam echoed in confusion. Sam and Scully were crouched on the other side of Mulder. She looked up at Sam for an explanation. Mulder gave them both one with his feeble reply.

"I can't get up."

Sam and Al and Scully all climbed in with Mulder to the hospital. Sam had told the EMT's that there was spinal chord damage. He can't believe he forgot to check for that.

"It's probably just temporary Mulder." Sam was saying. Sam wasn't sure who he was trying to calm down more: Mulder, Al and Scully, or himself. Mulder was fighting consciousness and relieved that his partner wasn't reprimanding him for running out. "You'll be walking out of the hospital in a couple of days. Don't panic until we find out what a spinal-injury specialist says, alright?" Mulder was losing his battle with consciousness.

"Mulder dammit! Stay awake! Come on, Mulder, you need to be awake when we get to the hospital." Scully was screaming at him now, peered over Mulder opposite of Sam, who was nervously checking the monitor. She was still holding Al's hand. Al and Sam exchanged looks of desperation as they watched Scully plead with her partner. Scully had maneuvered herself so she could look down into his eyes. The frightened, helpless desperation she saw in them scared her. It was so hard for her not being able to talk to him, but at least she could be there. She wanted to comfort him somehow. She tried to brush her fingers through his hair and carress his face, but her holographic hand just slipped into his scalp.

Mulder lost his battle with consciousness. Sam and Scully's eyes both clung to the monitors.


	6. Chapter 6

"Dr. Becket, what happened here?" Scully demanded.

Sam apologetically recounted the events of the morning to her.

"I'm sorry Dr. Scully." was all Sam could say.

"It's not your fault, Dr. Becket." Her voice was calm and steady, but her tone was explosive. She wasn't going to allow herself to break down in front of either of them. They got to the hospital and all waited for what seems like hours.

"Dr. Scully-how do you handle him? What I don't understand is how you've managed to keep both of you alive and sane for seven years, and not to mention you've stopped yourself from strangling Mulder."

"Yeah, well...we've got this system that's worked pretty well for seven years. Mulder gets a wild theory, goes in over his head, and I get him out of trouble. That's how we operate. Till what would have happened Wednesday, it worked pretty well."

Just then, a nurse called Sam out into the hall and a doctor came over to them. A puzzled expression was on the doctor's face as he read through Mulder's mile-long medical history file. "It's remarkable that he's alive, Dr. Scully."

Scully and Sam both had to wonder whether the doctor meant he was lucky to be alive with a medical history that long, or whether he was lucky to be alive with the injuries he had sustained this morning.

"What's his condition?"

"Stable for now. He's sustained a few injuries and lost quite a lot of blood. We've given him some demorrhal for the pain and he's scheduled for surgery in a few hours to correct the spinal chord damage. With the proper treatment, he should be walking again within the next few days. You can see him for a little while now before he goes under if you like, Dr. Scully, he's been asking for you."

Sam nodded a thanks. Before Sam went in he turned to Al. "Why don't you and Dr. Scully go back and see what answers Ziggy can come up with. I don't want to loose all our power in one shot." Scully gave Sam a pleading look. "Scully, I'll make sure he won't be alone. The best you can do right now for him is to help us find answers so we can get whoever he was chasing this morning." She nodded reluctantly and with that, Al and Scully popped out.

"Scully, I thought told you not to come after me. You could've gotten yourself killed."

"Mulder, you nearly did. It looks like you're going to be ok. What-happened?"

"I got a call from Krycek earlier yesterday to meet him. He said that since Spender put him in prison, he wanted to help me nail him. We planned to meet in the parkinglot. He wanted me to follow him out to someplace a little more secluded. I realized he set me up before it was too late."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew that if you found out, you would go with me-and I couldn't risk your life, too. I saw that you were still up, and I was worried that Spender might have informants on the look out. I couldn't let them know how long I had been gone. I knew that you'd see that letter-

oh "And come after you? Mulder-I hotwired the sherrif's patrol car."

"You know how to hotwire a car, Scully? I'm impressed."

Quantum Leap HeadQuarters May 18, 2015; 5:02 AM

Al was finding it difficult not to panic, but he knew he had to keep his nerves steady to help them. He was very surprised that Scully wasn't sobbing or breaking down.

"Thank you for letting me see him, Al. You know how much it meant to me."

"I'm just sorry it was under those circumstances."

"Me too."

Al coughed nervously. He could tell she was exhausted. "Look, for now, I'll be fine by myself. If you want some sleep, go right ahead. I'll let you know if anything changes or if we need your input."

Scully shook her head. "If something happens because I missed something, I don't think I would be able to face that, Al. Besides...if either of us needs sleep, it's you."

"Listen to me, Scully," Al's voice was filled with anger. He could not let Dana give up, because he couldn't give up either.

"Mulder's *NOT* going to die. He's going to walk out of that hospital in a couple of days, and he'll have us to thank for it. Come on, let's see what Ziggy's got for us."

"Ziggy?" Al forgot to mention that part of the project to her.

"Computer Hybrid Database. She contains every newspaper ever published, every medical record, legal record, and all births and deaths certificates, phone records, and credit-card activity data in the world. She's a bit miffed this morning because she couldn't see the wreck coming."

"Computers get miffed?" Scully echoed as she arched her eyebrows. Al nodded. "Especially this one with an ego like she's got. She hates being wrong."

"Admiral, what do you mean with an ego like she's got?" Demanded a crisp, not-quite-human female voice.

"Uh...nothing Ziggy...good morning."

"Morning Admiral."

"Can you give me anything you can find on FBI Agent Fox Mulder? Has anything changed?"

Scully and Al both looked in alarm at what the computer said next.

Mulder's FBI profile came up on the computer screan on the ceiling just as the secretary came in with a decidedly nervous expression on her face.

"Goushie, a man is here to see Al. I tried to stop him but..." The secretary was ignored. They were too engrossed in compiling data.

"Yes Admiral. I see no credit-card activity from Agent Mulder after today with the FBI, or cell-phone activity. There is a hospital record which lasts two days, and then all records of Fox Mulder have disappeared. After that, there's no more data on him. We can't crack the FBI case-files. They're under lock-and- seal."

No one saw Doggett come in, who was now staring up at the screen and looking over in complete disbelief at Al and who appeared to be Dr. Becket.

"Dana, can you call your friends and see if they can get us into the database?"

"Dr. Scully, I hope for Mulder's sake they believe what you say." said the hybrid, not seeing a man in a trench coat with sandy-gray hair and blue eyes in the room.

Agent Doggett couldn't believe what he was seeing. He gawked at a tall man chestnut hair and green eyes. Did he just here them refer to that man as Dana Scully? Mother of Melissa Mulder Dana Scully? Partner of fifteen years Dana Scully?

"Scully?"

He barely managed to speak. He was hoping it was a mistake.

Agent Doggett saw Dr. Becket's head turn in his direction, and the look in his eyes was one of complete dumbfoundedness, as though he had recognized his own name-as though he had no idea why the person who was calling the name would know it. It was quite some time before he could piece himself together enough to get his badge out of his breast pocket. He kept gawking up at the screen with Agent Mulder's picture and data, and then back at the man.

"Admiral, Agent Doggett with the FBI, we spoke on the phone yesterday." He took another confused look at the man, and another one up at Mulder's information, then another one at the Admiral.

"Would you mind explaining what the hell is going on here?"

"Agent Doggett, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Admiral, in my line of work, I've seen a lot of things you wouldn't believe if I told you. So try me."

Scully and Al exchanged trapped glances. Al waved for Goushie to come over. "Continue the research on him for now while I explain things to Doggett. Da-uh, Dr. Becket, go help him." Taking Al's cue, Scully did'nt turn to look at the Agent. She couldn't figure out where she recognized him from. Maybe, she thought, he just had one of those faces.

"I think I will need Dr. Becket for questioning too, considering this is his project. Dr. Becket can come with us." Doggett's southern lilt didn't seem to match with his abrupt frankness.

"Admiral, something about this whole set-up is weird. I come here to question Dr. Becket, and a computer calls him Scully, and you called him Dana just a few seconds ago, which is interesting because that's my partner down at the Bureau. Care to shed some light? Because you can bet your grits, gentlemen, if Dana Scully's being detained here against her will, there'll be he11 to pay." Doggett's steely blue gaze was threatening them both. He was scared for Scully's sake, and for his own. The flight from D.C. to New Mexico was hellacious. He was in no mood for bullsh*t, and said as much in his expression.

"Nobody's being held against their wills here, Agent." Scully spoke up. She looked to Al for permission to continue. "Al, that's exactly what I thought had happened twenty four hours ago. If he has connections with the boys, he can get them to crack the FBI files."

"Care to elaborate, Dr. Becket?" The man didn't have recognition of his own name. The men were still conferencing with each other.

Out on a limb, Doggett decided to try something.

"Scully!" He called out.

Doggett had Dr. Becket's attention now. And the Admiral's

May 18, 2001 Newberry Memorial Hospital

Sam was wondering what in the world was keeping Al. He pushed that worry in the back of his mind as the nurses, phlebotomists, and anesthetisiologists and surgical prep technicians buzzed in and out of the room. The drugs were about to take effect.

"Remember what I said last time I was under a drug around you, Scully?" Sam wished that Scully could've stayed to clue him in.

"Yeah, well, people say strange things under strange stuff." He figured that was a safe response.

"Scully, if I can't-"

Sam cut him off, he wasn't going to let Mulder even imagine defeat.

"Mulder, I'm going to go get some of the interviews out of the way while you're sedated. You can't do any more harm strapped to a bed." Then with a sheepish laugh,

"Oooohhhh. . . Strapped to a bed. . . kinky!" Mulder snorted.

"The sherrif will be missing his patrol car." Sam said, chosing to ignore his comment. "Then we need to get another rental car arranged."

"Yeah, I guess we can pretty much forget about getting the deposit back." Mulder said with a bitter laugh, glancing down at his legs, and then up at Sam, as if to say that the deposite was the least of his problems. Sam could tell that his hazel eyes were now getting weighted down with the medication, and the only thing overriding the sleepiness was fear.

"Mulder, you'll be fine. Doctor's orders." Sam was trying to convince himself, too.

Sam stayed with him as the drugs took over consciousness.

NEWBERRY MOTOR LODGE

For everyone else but Sheriff Hayward, depending on your sense of humor, the sight of Scully's dainty, porcelain-doll stature pulling up to the hotel in a hot-wired patrol car was either an amusing or an alarming one.

Sherrif Hayward couldn't tell from behind his desk that the FBI Woman was carrying a blood-stained jacket, and began litting into Sam as soon as she got within ear shot. He began to fly into Sam, and once he started, he was in such a rage, he failed to notice Mulder's blood stains.

"AGENT SCULLY, JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO HAVE YOU ARRESTED FOR PULLING THAT LITTLE STUNT. YOU STOLE PRIVATE PROPERTY. IS THAT ALL YOU YANKS KNOW HOW TO DO? THAT WHAT THEY TEACH YOU AT FED SCHOOL? RIP THE CARPET OUT FROM UNDER LAW ABIDING CITIZENS? YOU BETTER BELIEVE I CALLED YOUR-"

A very stern woman came out from the backroom. Very calm, steady, low, no-nonsense voice she said "Aaron."

"HUSH UP!" Sherrif Hayward barked, and then continued to lit into Sam as heavily as before, enjoying the roll he seemed to be on.

"AGENT SCULLY, YOU BETTER BELIEVE I CALLED YOUR SUPERIOR! HE'S ALREADY FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS INCIDENT AND I-"

The woman stepped in front of the man and looked him squarely in the eye. "Aaron, if you would calm down for two seconds, you would see that this poor thing is in trouble. Give the girl a chance to explain herself before you go tearin' her to shreds!" For the first time since Sam pulled up, sense seemed to be a part of the sheriff's reasoning. The sheriff looked to Sam for an explanation.

"Well...like she said...explain."

Sam was glad the man didn't have a rifle.

"My partner drove off with our rental car early this morning, and I thought he was in trouble. I didn't have any way to chase him down, so I had no choice but to hotwire your patrol car. I had ever intention of returning it when I could see that my partner was going to be alright."

The woman gave the sherrif a triumphant "See there?" look and went back to her place in the room behind the counter.

"Look, I apologize for hotwiring the car...but I didn't see any other way around it."

"It's alright ma'am."

"Thanks...uh...listen, is there anyway I can get a ride to a rental car center? I've got a lot of work to get done."

May 18, 2015 QLDQRTRS

"Scully?" Doggett asked again in amazement. The two men in front of him simultaneously turned to each other completely dumb- struck.

"Agent Doggett, I'm sorry, but I've never seen you before in my life." Scully lied. She was certain she had seen him somewhere...she just couldn't quite place it.

"Gentlemen, would you mind lettin' me in on the club-house secret here? Who called an unlisted cell phone asking about the late Fox Mulder?"

There was a long silence.

Scully spoke up. "I thought he was still alive."

"So for fifteen years, until yesterday morning, you hadn't been in touch with Mulder, and you wanted to deliver a message to him."

Scully nodded her head.

"Why didn't you just call Mulder's cell phone directly, Dr. Becket? If you knew the cell number of a friend of his well enough not to need to look it up, then surely, you knew Mulder's. Why didn't you just send the message directly." Doggett looked at him point blank.

"Al, wouldn't it be easier if we just told him?"

"Yes, it would." Doggett answered.

May 18, 2001

12:45 Newberry, SC

Once Sam explained the whole ordeal to Sherrif Hayward, he was very compliant and drove him to a rental-car center. He was quick to get another car, and then drove back to the hotel for the case reports. Sam was worried about Mulder, but part of him was glad that Mulder would be out of trouble...at least he couldn't get shot at for now.

Now, all he needed to do was to solve the cases. He had done that before in other leaps. Sure, it was just like any good old- fashioned whodunnit.

Or whatdunnit.

And what was keeping Al so long?

PQLHDQRTRS

Roswell NM May 18, 2015; 9:47 AM

In the waiting room, Doggett was getting impatient. He certainly wasn't going anywhere the way things were going at the moment, so he decided to try another tact.

"Dr. Becket-the same Dr. Becket I saw on Larry King-the same Dr. Becket whose papers gave me these racoons-just answered to my partner's name. How is that possible?"

Dr. Becket's face had an enlightened expression. Scully finally had an idea of who Doggett was.

"Agent Doggett..." Al started tentatively, and turned to the Sam-who-was-Scully. "I was hoping we could do this some other way, but it looks like you don't give up easy, either. Is that part of the job description to apply for the Bureau or something? Strange names and pig heads?"

"Admiral...I take the truth like my coffee...just give it to me straight."

"If you're familiar with Dr. Becket's dissertations, then you're familiar with this theories of time travel."

Doggett nodded and urged Al to continue.

Al began very pedantically, like he was reciting a mantra. Scully and Doggett could tell he had recited this several times.

"Back in '99, we were just about to complete the project-a time machine which he invented-when he stepped into it, and vanished. Ever since, he's been changing souls from time and place to time and place. We became aware of what had happened to Agent Mulder when Dr. Becket swapped souls with Dr. Dana Scully. So what you are seeing in front of you is only an aura of Dr. Becket. This is Dana Scully in front of you." Doggett's eyes widened in confusion.

"Scully?" He squeaked again. Stoic, steady-as-a-rock John Doggett, who had seen things beyond weird with his work on the x-files, who had rarely blinked as a member of the NYPD, never let his voice go up octaves. He already had twice today.

"The Dr. Scully that existed on May 18, 2001, at anyrate." Al clarified. "She doesn't recognize you because she hasn't met you yet. Scully, can I talk to the agent for a few minutes privately?"

Scully nodded and left the two men by themselves.

"Forgive me, Admiral, but this is a lot harder to swallow than a horsepill."

"Yeah, I know it's a lot to sink in...but it's the truth. No matter what, you can't tell Scully what's happened to her within the last fifteen years."

"None of that?"

Al shook his head. "If you tell her about events in her original history, it could change everything. So, for all our sakes... please...no references to anything that might jeopardize her future-or yours."

"Admiral, I appreciate your honesty. If there's something I can do-"

"Just a minute Agent." Al interrupted. "Just wait right here, I'll be right back." He left to go talk to Scully.

"Scully, get Agent Puppy-boy in there to get your buddies you called yesterday to pick the lock on the FBI files. I'm gonna go center on Sam and get back to you when I find out more." Al went to the imaging chamber, and Scully went into the waiting room, not quite sure how she was going to convince Agent Doggett to get the Lone Gunmen's help.

May 18, 2001

12:35pm Newberry SC

Dangler residence

There were three victims. Holly Dangler, 16, and Mary Alice Dangler, Becky Gilquist, both 17, and Ezekiel Rawlston, 18. Luckily, Mulder had the foresight to call when they first got there from the hotel for appointments with the victims' families.

Sam had arrived to find a modest trailer home drenched in tobacco stains. Rita Dangler sat in the living room of her trailer, clutching a box of kleanex and intermittently puffing a cigarrette that seemed to be as much a part of her as her fingers that held it. She seemed to add unnecessary syllables to very word she spoke.

"So you told Officer Lott that Holly and Mary Alice were at Myrtle on Spring Break?" Sam asked, trying to get the right mix of detatchment sincerity, and sympathy in his tone. Tears were bubbling beneath her words. "Yeyas. Theyah was with their friends Paul and Zeke and Zeke's guhrruhlfreeyund Bayckeh. He cawalled meh on Thursdahay aiskin' fer eyggstra cash." She burried her face in her tissue.

Sam sat there stoically, writing her words down-at least what words from her Southern dialect he could translate. "Uh-huh. What did you see happening to your sons before they died?

"Ah didn't see 'em," Mrs. Dangler sobbed. "They were uhwayah at schewuhl. The UMCS up th' road." Sam thought, knowing full well the country definition of 'up the road' could mean an hour and a half drive.

"Did they tell you they were sick...anything?" Mrs. Dangler only rattled her head no.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Dangler. We'll be in touch." Sam showed himself out, and after picking up fast-food for lunch, he headed for his next appointment at the Gilquist's residence. At the Gilquist's he found a ice-cold pitcher of sweet iced tea, a fresh bundt cake, Harold, the victim's father, and Maggie, her mother waiting for him.

They were stone-calm in their small, tastefull house decorated in country colors. He could tell their grief was dormant underneath their words.

Again, Sam asked the same standard questions he had posed Mrs. Dangler, trying to find the right mix in his tone between sympathy, detatchment, and sincerity.

"You told the officer that she was at Myrtle Beach for vacation a few days before this happened?" The Gillquists nodded simultaneously.

"Did she tell you she wasn't feeling well before this all happened?" He decided to use a little more tact this time. The Gillquists looked thoughtful for a minute. Again, a simultaneous nod.

"Yes," Mrs. Gillquist finally answered. "She was complaining of not being able to keep anything down. She had this burning sensation in her stomach whenever she swallowed, she said. She also said that she had a constant burning sensation in her chest...like heartburn."

Sam wished his short hand was better as he chicken-scratched Mrs. Gillquist's response. "Thank you for all your help, Mr. and Mrs. Gillquist. We'll keep in touch." Sam looked at his watch. Mulder was probably getting out of surgery now. He knew if he was going to keep his promise to Scully he needed to get back to the hospital soon. If he hadn't thought he needed to get this case solved soon, he would've stayed to offer his medical expertise.

Mrs. Gillquist tugged at Sam's arm on his way out the door. "Mrs. Hayward called me and told me about your partner. He'll be in my prayers, miss."

Sam smiled faintly. "Thanks Mrs. Gilquist. Well...uh...I need to get going. Thanks." Sam said, and waved a good bye as he headed out the door.

Back at the hospital, Mulder was just getting out of surgery. He was still sedated under the anesthesia. It would be a while till he got out of it. Sam decided to sit at the chair by his bed and salvage some sleep while he waited for Al.

"Sam! Saaaaaam!" He was yanked out of his sleep by Al's smoke- scratched voice to his right.

"So how's the kid doing?" Al asked as he gnawed on his cigar.

"He should be okay. How's Scully holding up?" Al nodded, indicating she was fine.

"Oh man, Sam...you wouldn't believe what happened. Agent Doggett-"

"The guy who called you yesterday?" Al nodded. Sam's expression urged him to continue.

"He found the project complex and broke in past the secretaries, gaurds and everything. I don't know how he did it."

"Maybe he got by with a little help from Dr. Scully's friends?"

"Who knows? She's debriefing him right now."

Sam was encouraged by the heartrate picking up, but figured it had to be a while before Scully's partner came out of the anesthesia.

"Al, I'm worried about Mulder. I think it might not be a bad idea when the A.D. gets here to report him. He almost got himself killed today."

Fox Mulder was beginning to come out from under anesthesia. Slowly memories of the case...of Scully acting un-Scully-like... flooded back. He couldn't quite piece it together. She was the same mothery skeptic she always was...but something had been different since yesterday. He couldn't shake that look she had had earlier in the office after she first came in off his mind- like she had no memory of him whatsoever.

Mulder was stupified and groggy, and decided to keep his eyes close a while longer... he thought...

"So does Dr. Scully have any insights yet on this case?"

Mulder saw Scully react to something that wasn't there.

"Sam, I think you better stop yappin'. The kid's awake."

Sam spun around at Al's suggestion and saw a look of panic on Mulder's face that had drowned his features. If Mulder wasn't strapped to the bed, Sam would've found himself in two positions, either diving noseward from the throw of a punch or staring down the barrell of a gun.

Instead, all Mulder could settle for was a dangerous look and a slow, explosive, steady tone. Al and Sam both stood stock-still as Mulder demanded what had been clamoring on the edge of his thoughts for the past two days.

"Where's Scully?


	7. Chapter 7

"Mulder...it's Scully-I'm right here," he said, barely catching himself.

"Sam, remember," Al warned, "if you let on who you really are- Poof! we could go into oblivion faster than Jimmy Hoffa."

"You're *NOT* Scully. I just heard you referring to her as another person. I heard you talking to thin air as though you were having a one-sided conversation."

Mulder felt completely helpless. It was all his fault. It was his quest that got him in this situation, and his search for the truth that might have cost him Scully-again. Sam really felt sorry for the guy. Mulder couldn't understand what was going on. He thought his partner was gone. He tried to calm Mulder down the best he could.

"Mulder, your mind was just playing tricks on you with the anesthesia. I'm Dana Scully-your partner."

"Nice save, Sam." Al encouraged.

"I'm not buyin'. I know what I saw. I know what I heard. You're not Dana Scully. Now tell me the truth!"

"Mulder, I'm Dr. Dana Scully." Sam lied again

"Alright, if you're Dana Scully, then tell me what my lucky number is."

Sam was silent.

"If you're Dana Scully, then tell me what my favorite movie is?" Sam was still silent. He couldn't answer. Al was panicking.

"Sam, I'm outta here! If you tell that kid who you really are, I want that nurse at the counter to be the last thing I see."

"Mulder, you wouldn't believe me even if I could tell you."

"Try me."

"I-" he gave a warning look back at Al.

Roswell, NM

QLHDQRTRS

9:47 AM

It took everything Doggett had in him not to tell Scully what happened to her. By now, he was used to getting left-field theories from his partner, but this one...this one was wierd. It was beyond wierd...just plain bizzare.

"So, Scully. Just let me see if I got this right." His expression was pointed, as if he was trying not to laugh in disbelief. "You're tellin' me all this is part of a time-travel experiment, and you're not actually this guy right here," he flashed a photocopied picture he had of Sam, "But Dana Scully as she existed in 2001, so this guy" he held up a picture again, "Can help that guy," he pointed at Mulder "fix what went wrong in the original history."

Scully nodded.

"That would be correct, John." came the droning "voice" of the computer. There is a 94-point-five percent possibility that you're finding this all a bit hard to believe."

Doggett flashed an awkward smile up at in the computer's direction, and Scully shot Ziggy a dirty look.

"Ziggy, don't you have something useful to do?" Scully wanted to know.

"Dr. Scully, right now, I am configuring statistics on fossils found carbon dating to the paleolithic era, playing a game of chess with the world's top player, and stylistically differentiating the different authors of what are perported to be Shakespearean plays. I was *built* to be useful." Doggett could have sworn he saw the computer module smirk.

"Agent Doggett, we need your help." Dr. Beeks was saying. "You came here looking for information on the murder of Fox Mulder. We don't know anymore than you do at this point, because we can't access the FBI files. But both you and Dr. Scully know people who possibly can."

Doggett looked at Dr. Becket-er...Scully-quizzically.

"The Gunmen?" She answered.

Doggett sighed and got out his cell phone. "Hey, Byers, you guys feel like taking a trip to Roswell?" Doggett nodded during the slight pause. "How soon can you boys catch a plane out here?" The Lone Gunmen were on their way.

3:47 pm

Newberry Memorial Hospital

Newberry, SC.

Just then, the doctor walked in. Sam sighed in relief at not having to answer the question just then.

"Well, Mr. Mulder. Everything appears to be normal. It looks like you'll be fine, and you'll require some extensive physical therapy, but you should be walking in a day or so." Mulder closed his eyes in relief. "Thanks."

"I'll send orders for a prescription for the pain. But now-" the doctor stopped to look at the watch-"huh...that's weird...the compass on my watch is going all haywire. Huh! How 'bout that. Oh well...I guess I'll just hafta get a new battery. Anyway, I need to be going. I have a golf date with a colleague. I'll be by to check on you again during my morning rounds. Bye!" The doctor wagged his head, dumbstruck as the compass seemed to fix itself again as soon as he stepped out of the room.

"Al, I seriously don't see another way around this. He knows anyway,if we poofed out of existence because of Mulder finding out, we would've been long gone."

"Al? Who's Al? What the hell is going on?"

"Mulder, you and your partner are part of a time-travel experiment."

"Sam, I'm warning you! You tell this kid about the project and we go bye-bye." Sam could almost see the acid churning in Al's stomach.

"Al, I'm telling you, it's the only way! My name is Dr. Samuel Becket, and I am from the future in a time machine that I built."

"The Playwright? Don't tell me you're another nutcase that needs to destroy his time machine."

Sam was glad Mulder was buying his explanation.

"No, no...not at all...I'm a physicist."

"Nobel-prize winner? I saw you on the cover of Newsweek a few years back. Who are you talking to?" "Oh. Uh, this is my friend Al Calivici." Sam gestured to the air where Al was. He's a friend of mine who helps on the leaps, sometimes." Sam was actually relieved he didnt' need to keep up the sherade anymore.

"So, Dr. Becket. What are you here to fix? I hope it's not my love life, because that would be damn pathetic if you came all the way across time and space to fix that."

May 18, 2015

4:02pm Roswell, NM

PQLHDQRTRS

Doggett met Byers, Langly, Frohike, Jimmy, and Yves at the gates, who were each carrying as much equipment as they could in one load, explaining exactly what Scully had explained to him.

"So no telling her, anything, ok? Seriously fellas..." he looked nervously over at Yves, "and ma'am...if she finds out anything that's happened to her in this history, it could make all of us disappear."

"Cool!" Langly seemed grimly delighted by the prospect. Byers let an aggrivated sigh, and followed Doggett in.

"So *that's* what they're hiding in area 51, huh Doggett? No little green men after all?" The wheels were already turning in Byers' head for the next Lone Gunmen issue. What a great cover story this would make!

"Don't even think about it, Byers." Yves countered. They went inside the complex, and were given the grand tour.

"The computer module doesn't have any extra outlets for our laptops.

How do we communicate?"

"Like you would talk to everyone else." the computer module chirpped. "Speak to me."

Frohike was embarrassed, and they were all starring in awe at the machine, looking around, trying to figure out how it worked.

"I'm capable of composing music based on fractal equations, writing twenty thousand programs, patting my head, and rubbing my tummy." If that weren't a computer, Frohike could've sworn he heard her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Ziggy, I think I'm in love." Langly's nasally voice was dreamier than either Scully or Doggett had ever heard it before. "You like Megadeath?"

"Put a sock in it." The module answered dryly.

"What do you know, a million megabytes of megabitch," grumbled Frohike.

"This is so awesome!" Jimmy was poking around the project like a little kid in a toystore, being interrupted every now and then by Verbeena Beeks' stern warning "Don't touch that!" To which, Jimmy pearched up on the research table. "Hey, can you beam me up?"

"Boys," Yves was always aggitated, trying to bring them back to earth. "We got work to do."

"So is there any main computer we can hook our systems up to?"

"Over here, this is the mainframe." Goushie said, relieved that Jimmy and Langly were going to be occupied for a while, and showed Byers and Yves where to set-up. Doggett and Scully hoped that the Gunmen could do their job.

Newberry Memorial Hospital

"See, Al...I told you we wouldn't disappear. Remember Tamlin? When I told her who I was? We didn't disappear then, either, because she knew already."

"That china doll and Roy Neary over there are different situations enTIRELY! We were lucky we didn't disappear like a pizza in front of Marlon Brando." Al punched in a few buttons in the handlink.

"Tamlin?" Mulder was confused.

"Tamlin's this girl I met in San Fransisco a while back. She found out who I was, too."

"So, seriously...what are you here to fix? I'd hate to think God, or time, or whatever it was who pinballed you around sent you here for my lovelife. That would be just pathetic. You ever think that what's leaping you around are an alien race?"

"No-I don't think so." He never considered that possibility. He just always got the feeling that it was some omniscient entity with an agenda for good.

"You really believe in little green men, don't you Mulder? I mean, don't you think it could be just that you blindly want to assume that some big bad alien took your sister so that you can have something to fight against?"

"They're gray. You know what took me so long to catch on that you weren't Scully?"

Sam shook his head.

"Because right now, you're sounding a lot like her. After all you've seen in the files from that basement office-how can you *not* understand that we're not alone...and the truth Scully and I have fought so hard for is in that understanding?" Sam remembered the mantra on the poster on the office wall back in D.C. "I want to believe-but I can't. Not without physical evidence."

"Look me up when you leap back home. I'll set you and Scully up. You two would be perfect for each other." Sam whirled around to face Al as the handlink to Ziggy's mainframe hised and whirred and beeped like crazy. The panic swam back to Mulder's face, responding to Sam's.

"Sam, you changed history. Mulder doesn't get killed anymore. Scully does."

"Sam, is Scully alright? Where is she?"

"You're partner's fine for now. She's in the future...in my time...at the project."

"What do you mean, *for now? Sam, I don't like this!"

"I don't get it Al...what happened between now and this afternoon that changed things?"

"Changed what things? What things changed?"

"Uh...Sam-the kid?" Sam had nearly forgotten that Mulder was there.

"Sam, is there anyway I can see Al? It's like a constant two- sided three-party telephone conversation here. Just getting a little complicated"

"Uh...I don't think so. The experiment was tuned to Al's and my brainwave's only."

"Maybe we should get two cans and a string. Wait a sec...what if we've got similar brainwaves? Could I register Al's signal then?"

"Hang on kid, lemme try something." Al said as if Mulder could here him, and punched a few buttons. "Sam, ask the kid what his psychological profile is."

"Mulder, what's your psychological profile?" Sam looked at Al a little confused, wondered what Al was getting at.

"If we can find similatities in your profiles, then bingo bango bongo, we can rewire the neurotransmitters so both of you can see me."

"Uh...photographic memory," Mulder wasn't used to being the one with the left-field theories.

"Al," Sam was protesting, "we don't know what part of the brain that's responsible for that yet...how can it be possible..."

"Bippety..." Al said, punching in a few keys to the handlink.

"Genius I.Q,"

"What if it takes up a lot more power than we can affoard? Al-I don't think it's the greatest idea in the world..."

"Boppety..." a few more keys punched into the handlink.

"Boo. Hi kid, how's it going." Suddenly, Mulder could see a shorter man with dark-set eyes and dark hair, greying at the temples in a dolphin-gray suit with a gold-color tie with matching shoes, and plumb colored shirt sporting a cigar.

"Hey Al. So what costume shop did you pick that get-up at?

No *wonder* Scully thought the project was a practical joke.

"*VERY* funny." Al made a face, "At least I'm not wearing something with a draft. I don't think that was in at the beginning of the melinnium."

"You know, you two were made for each other." Sam piped up. "Could you two stop going at it for two seconds so we can figure out what to do?" Sam was secretly glad that someone else had to deal with Al's weird sense of humor for a change.

"I can't tell you what happens, Mulder. It's against the regulations of the project." Sam was beginning to feel like a gradeschool teacher.

"Wait a sec...how did you know that stuff about my sister?"

"I spent most of last night reading Scully's e-log." He said, and rubbed his eyes, just then realizing how extremely exhausted he was.

"And here I was thinking my insomnia was contagious." Then, shifting gears completely, "So, what happens?"

"If you knew, everything could go ca-ca." Al interjected.

"I'm not exactly supposed to find out who you are, either, Sam."

"Mulder, even if you knew what happened, exactly what can you do about it strapped to a bed?" Sam countered.

"I have my connections, Sam. Hey-wait a sec...what if you just stayed here. No way anything could happen just hanging out in the hospital room."

"He's got a point Al. See what Ziggy says." Sam leaned over Al's shoulder as he pushed a few keys in the handlink.

"Nope." Al shook his head, "No dice, kid. Still a 72 percent possibility with that scenerio."

"Possibility of what?" Mulder still was going to do everything he could to get an answer out of the hologram.

"I told you, Mulder..." Al used a phrase he heard Agent Doggett use a couple of times. "I can't tell you that."

"Alright, Sam, why don't you go and see if you can find out anything." "What about Mulder?" Sam couldn't break his promise to Scully.

"Sam, don't worry about me, I've got Casper over here to keep me company."

"Kid, if I weren't a hologram-" Al shook his cigar at him threateningly.

Sam took one last worried look at the bullets that seemed to fire between the two of them. "Play nice, you two. I'll be back when I can."

With that, Sam left.

Al sat in a silence that seemed to fog the room for a few seconds as Mulder channel-surfed. "Hey, look at that...they're making fun of Plan 09 From Outter-Space on Mystery Science Theatre"

Al suddenly had a revelation. He would be damned if he was going to help the kid sitting in the hospital bed next too him, but he wanted to help Dana. What if he got Mulder to leave the FBI? He really got a kick out of playing matchmaker sometimes.

"Hey, Mulder...now that you've found out about your sister...ever thought about just picking up and leaving the FBI?"

"Yeah...it has crossed my mind, actually. It's put too many people at risk. I just don't think I could bring myself to leave Scully alone in that office. She's completely ruined her career...risked her life...lost her sister, and a child, and her chance to have kids...I don't think I could just pick up and leave-not after that. I need to make sure she's ok. The FBI's not much, but it's the only way I can do that."

"Mulder, what the hell were you doing pawning Scully off on Sam like that earlier? Not only are you a royal pain in the ass, you're a bonefide yabbo for giving up a woman like that!"

"Al...I told her once. She shrugged me off. No way am I gonna resurrect that ghost," he said. Mulder couldn't even look at Al as he was saying this.

"You think she'd stay in the FBI anymore if you weren't there?"

"Probably not...but then, I still couldn't look after her. She knows too much now. The guy who did this to me and his lackies would make sure one way or the other that her information would go with her to the grave. I can't let that happen."

"What if Sam got that Krycek yahoo?"

"You know, I never really even thought about it. I've never considered leaving as an option." Mulder let out a sigh as if he didn't even realize he was holding in his breath.

Mulder was begining to grow on Al. Like Mulder, Al knew what it was like to come from a broken home. Like Mulder, Al knew what it was to loose a sister. He reminded him of himself about thirty years or so ago. Maybe that's why the kid irritated him to the core.

"Come on, Mulder...it could be a real possibility. Sam and I have about as good a success rate as you and Dana. If that's what it takes to change history, it could mean that schnoz would be worm food. Go ahead...dream a little...what would you do?" Al took a puff of his cigar as if it were a challenge. Mulder was thoughtful for a minute, eyes still intent on the television, not quite able to look at Al.

"I guess I could get a professorship somewhere and teach psychology, or offer my expertise as a consultant or something like that."

"You know what I meant, Mulder." Al pressed. He could tell Mulder was avoiding the answer.

Exactly what was Al trying to get at?

"Scully and I weren't meant to be like that. Not Scully. Not Dana." Mulder was close to tears now.

"Mulder, what happens to the soul and what is meant to be isn't sealed by fate alone. Trust me on this one-Sam and I are in the business of changing that."

There was a long silence.

Sam had another appointment with the fourth victim's father. It was in the next town over in Cayce, so he had some much needed time to clear his head. What didn't make sense in the medical report was that ammonia was basic, and sea water was neutral. It shouldn't have given them acid reflux. He would call back the families and get the victims physicians tomorrow afternoon on the way to the Methodist College.

Although, maybe with the way he remembered college students' eating habits, the heartburn probably didn't have so much to do with the case, even though the acid reflux would make sense with the way the bodies appeared to be burned on the slides. Still, every aspect the case was still about as clear as the proverbial mud. "The docs gave Mulder some demorwhatsit for the pain a few minutes ago, so the kid is sleeping like a baby now."

"Al! Could you just for once stop popping in like that?"

"I'm sorry Sam, I'm thin air, remember? Holograms can't exactly knock!"

"Any ideas from Mulder?"

"Yeah, actually. He's got this thing for Dana." Sam, for some reason or another, wasn't surprised.

"Thanks for the soap opera update, but I meant about the case, Al."

"Oh! Oh, yeah...uh...he says if we can get the nozzle that knocked him off the road this morning, a one..." he punched in a few buttons on the handlink "...Alex Kry..." Al gave the side of the handlink a good whack "...cek...Alex Krycek...he and Scully can leave the FBI in peace."

"That's wonderful, but that still doesn't tell me squat about the case that apparently I'm here to solve. That Krycek guy is dangerous. I can't put Scully's life at risk for Mulder's cause...least of all for his love life"

"That's what Dana's done for the past seven years, Sam...at least for the cause part. I'm telling you, get Krycek."

May 18, 2015 Roswell, NM;

QLHDQRTRS

It wasn't long before The Lonegunmen were able to crack the FBI database and get the files needed for Ziggy's mainframe. Much to Doggett's relief, they didn't slip anything about Scully's future...er past. To Doggett, things were mixed up more than the ballots in Florida fifteen years ago.

"Scully, if things are alright here, I'm gonna head on back to D.C. Good luck with everything. I'll-uh-good luck." The phrase "see you back at the office" didn't seem to fit at that moment. If he understood everything Scully said, there was no telling the implications if Calivici and Becket succeeded in their leap. He might find himself not in the dingy basement office, but back in the NYPD. God-what would happen to Melissa? Would she even exist if they succeeded?

"Thank you, Agent Doggett-for everything."

"Just doin' my job Agent." He said a silent good-bye to her and followed the gunmen and Yves Harlowe out the door. It must have been only a few minutes later, Scully heard shots ring out in the door. Krycek was leading Doggett by gunpoint back into the project.

Scully ducked under the computer console, panicking as her mind raced, trying to figure out the next logical step.

Nobody was going to die. Not here. Not like this. Not if she had anything to do with it.

May 18, 2015 2:54pm Roswell, NM;

PQLHDQRTRS

Scully and Doggett were both veterans of hostage situations.

Doggett knew that the memory of Pfaster was still vividly etched on Scully's mind.

Doggett could vaguely recall his first hostage situation with the X-Files involving Absalom. Scully and Doggett were both familiar with Krycek. They both knew how tricky and slippery he could be. Doggett thought he was like a fish who got the bait and swam away without being hooked. What made it different this time was that if Krycek messed anything up for Al or Sam, who knows what the reprocutions would be for all involved-down at the FBI in D.C., and at the project.

"You don't wanna do this, Krycek." Doggett was saying in the calm, cool, steady tone that Scully thought he must have learned during FBI training from the section of the handbook entitled "How to Handle a Hostage Crisis."

"What you do here could mess everything up for all of us." He was praying silently for Scully not to get up.

"Why wouldn't I wanna do that-I got nothin' to loose. You got a bone to chew on, Dogbreath? 'Cause we're gonna be here a while."

"Alex," Scully called as she rose slowly from her crouching position she was finding hard to hold under the computer console. She could not sit there hiding from Krycek forever.

"What is it you want?"

Kryceck cocked his pistol behind Doggett's ear. Doggett looked to Sam-who-was-Scully, part of him excited about seeing Luke again. Scully rushed at Krycek, giving Doggett an opportunity to get out of the way. Krycek poised the gun at Scully, and then slowly and deliberately pointed the gun at the screen up ahead, and fired at the image of Mulder's head. The profile of Mulder suddenly dissappated, and Scully managed to kick the gun from Krycek's grip. Doggett dove for it, and pointed it at him.

"Dr. Beeks, is there rope anywhere around here?" Scully asked.

"Scully, I don't think anyone would blame you if you shot the rat dead right here."

"Go ahead, Agent Scully, I got nothin' to loose." was all Krycek could say. Scully decided with doctors present, the safest bet would be to make a clean shot in a place that wasn't fatal. She aimed for his left arm, and fired. Dr. Beeks and Goushie carried him into the waiting room.

"Scully, thanks." She flashed him an acknowledging smile. "I- uh-hope everthing works out."

"Just doing my job, Agent Doggett."

Doggett had to wonder if Scully meant protecting Mulder or protecting him. He liked to think it was for them both. He laid a firm hand on her shoulder and left the project with goodbye in his steps.

May 18, 2001 6:14pm Hwy 229, SC

Sam knew that it would only be a matter of time before Krycek would resurface. He sent Al to sit with Mulder. The interview in Cayce didn't shed any light on the x-file. He didn't even find any real evidence of the paranormal in this examination. He would need to wait until the autopsies tomorrow to get any real data on the situation. The medication the doctors gave Mulder would be working their spell at this point. Sam figured the best thing he could do for everyone involved would be to get some sleep. He just hoped no nightmares like he had had the night before would tear him from sleep again.

May 19, 2001; 8:30am

Newberry Motor Inn

Newberry SC

The bed seemed to be pulling him back like a magnet as the alarm yanked Sam from sleep. It had been uninterupted, and he had to will himself in an upright position. He spent the routine replaying the case over and over in his mind. There *HAD* to be something he had missed. He felt a pang of guilt not being able to stop the events of the previous morning, but at least now Mulder couldn't be killed. If Al was right, then all he had to do was get Krycek, and then he could leap out-hopefully, this time, home. He had no idea how long it had been since he had been able to be himself.

He would do autopsies on the victims now that the morgue would be open. After he could find what he could in the morgue, Sam decided the best thing to do at this point was to visit Mulder, give him the notes from the interviews, see if he could pinpoint anything that might shed some light on things.

Sam was just about to open the door to leave when he heard a door open from the outside in Mulder's room. He tentatively grabbed Scully's gun, crept to the door and pushed it slightly open. He saw no one there. The only trace of human presence at all was a thin cigarrette propped ontop of an ashtray with smoke climbing lazily from it's red embers. Sam thought that it could have belonged to the maid, and pushed the nonevent out of his mind as he headed to the morgue.

He would grab breakfast at the hospital.

The coroner oozed southern gentility and was a little surprised to see Scully's dainty form in scrubs with scalpel poised. To him, it was as out of place as snow on a palm tree. Sam pointed the microphone down so he could speak into it. "Case file number G578893. Subject, male age 17. Newberry South Carolina. The body appears to be covered in 60% in acid burns. I am cleaning out the chest cavity."

"There appears to be a white substance." Once rotten-eggish whiff told Sam what it was. "that appears to be Sulfur." Still another base, Sam thought. It wasn't adding up. "The sulfur appears throughout the body. I am cleaning it out now."

Sam took a brush and proceeded, and was very glad that Al wasn't around to complain about the grotesqueness of the situation.

"Where the sulfur appears, there are signs of internal hemhoraging and on the epidermal surface, there appears to be signs of contusions and scar tissue. This internal hemmhoraging appears to be the cause of death."

The other three bodies had much the same effects, and still the case was no closer to being solved. He thanked the coroner and left to the hospital to tell Mulder what he had found.

Maybe there was something he could see that Sam couldn't. Sam thought that he smelled smoke again as he approached Mulder's room. It smelled exactly like the smoke that was in the hotel room. With a bagel in towe, Sam was hoping Mulder would be awake.

All of a sudden, there was a throng of nurses buzzing into his room. Al popped in front of him, looking haggard and anxious. At what Al said next, Sam broke into a gallop.

"The kid flat-lined, Sam."


	8. Chapter 8

May 19, 2001 Newberry, SC

Newberry Memorial Hospital

A team of nurses got the shock paddles ready and Sam watched as Mulder's body jerked at the impact.

"What happened Al? You were supposed to be with him! Where were you!"

Sam was furious. He didn't care at this point if it looked like he was talking to thin air. He shook a threatening finger in Al's face. "If you left him for two seconds to check out a nurse-"

"Sam-CALM DOWN!" Al was used to being Sam's punching bag. He understood Sam's desperation all too well. "You think I would let something happen to Mulder if I could help it? I didn't see anyone come in or leave." Al left the words hanging as though there were something more he needed to say.

"I'm sorry, Al. I didn't mean to jump all over you like that..."

"It's my fault. If he dies, it's my fault."

Mulder's body jerked again as the paddles were applied for a second time. Al and Sam's eyes were both gripped onto the monitor through the glass. They were both praying silently. Al never prayed.

"No...it's mine." Al said quietly. "I dozed off." The sigh Al released echoed the guilt in his tone. "I dunno for how long. I hadn't even realized I had until those nurses came in shouting. Sam, I'm sorry. I let you down. I let Dana down."

Again, the paddles were applied, again the jerk. Again the silence. Again the mumbled prayers.

Then, there was a beep, another beep, and the monitors began a steady, rhythmic drone. Everyone in that hospital room seemed to heave a collective sigh of relief.

"It's not your fault, Al."

"Yours either." Al took a puff of his cigar. They both went inside after the band of nurses and doctors all filed out. They both went in, glad to find Mulder awake.

"Hey, guys"

"You spooked us, kid." Mulder cracked a half-grin at Al's horrible pun.

"Al-you can't say I haven't earned my nickname." He said, cracking a half-grin.

"You think I could be thinking I'm smelling your cigar? I could swear I smell tobacco smoke. It smells exactly like what was in Mulder's hotel room this morning." Sam thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye in the hallway through the glass.

Al shook his head. "Who knows."

"Smoke?" Mulder's expression changed from a puzzled to an angered one.

Sam whipped around in horror at the man that seemed to come out of nowhere, reeking of the smell that had been in Mulder's hotel room and in the hallway earlier.

"Talking to yourself, Agent Scully? Have you taken to imaginary friends now? It's understandable. You're going to loose your partner very soon."

Sam whipped out Scully's gun. The elderly man before him had no expression on his face. The only indication that he was surprised at all by having a gun pointed at him was a single blink.

The man chuckled softly to himself. "You wouldn't ruin your career over me, now, would you? You have no provocation to kill me." The man spoke in soft, soothing, arrogant tones, knowing he had already won the negotiation. Sam c*cked the gun, ready to fire.

"My career's already ruined, isn't it?"

"Sam, just blow the smoking sonuvabitch's head off." Al suggested it as if he had suggested to turn on the lights.

"What have you got to loose, Ms. Scully. Go ahead and kill me, then." The old man taunted.

The elderly man took a defiant puff of his cigarette, and chuckled inwardly to himself as he noticed something about the woman pointing a gun at him. The life-blue of Scully's eyes showed no recognition of him at all.

"You can't kill me, can you, Agent. Mulder, allow me to extend get-well wishes to you. The sooner you walk, the sooner I get to see you die." The man slowly walked out of the room, and seemed to be gone as undetected as he came. Sam tried to run after him in the hall, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Who was that guy, Mulder?"

"The bad guy."

"No shit sherlock."

"Seriously?" Sam was obviously flustered by the old man, and took a bite of his bagel, trying to shake the events that had just played out from his mind. "I smelled the same brand of cigarettes in your hotel room, and the same brand in the hall just before you went into cardiac arrest."

"We don't know who he is, Sam. The only thing we know of him is one alias-C.B.G. Spender, and that he worked with my father. He had a hand in my sister's kidnapping. Look, you don't need to know who he is, anyway."

"Mulder, if this guy threatened to kill you and we can get proof of it, we can prosecute and make him rot in prison."

"Sam, I don't even know who he *IS.* I have been trying for seven years to find out, but the damage he has done and the truth he's covered up for who knows how long has been the work of more than just him. Don't you think I would've filed charges by now if I could have? Besides...my peglegs may be the answer to everything. The only way he'll leave Scully alone is if I'm off the x-files."

"What are you saying, Mulder?"

"If I can't walk, I can't work for the FBI anymore. So, if

I make sure I don't walk again, problem's solved."

Sam and Al couldn't believe what they were hearing. A man who not 48 hours ago was willing to risk everything for his quest was now just giving up. It just wasn't making sense. Al was furious.

"You can't just give up like that Mulder."

"Why not, Sam?" Mulder's tone was ferocious, he couldn't even make eye contact with either of them.

"Sam, how can you sit here and let him say that? Do you have any idea what I have to face if I go back there and tell Scully we let her down?"

"She'll be alive, Al."

"Kid," Al's voice was slow, steady, but simmering with anger. "I swear, you're lucky I'm a hologram. Before, you were a bug up my ass. But now, I think you're just as big a jerk as the rest of 'em. Sam and I are putting our lives on the line. So has Dana Scully for the past seven years. I don't give a damn if you wanna feed your own ass to the sharks, but I cannot let you just give up like that! If you think for a minute I'm gonna go back there and tell Dana you're not going to be on the x-files when all this is over, you've got another thing coming."

Sam flashed an incredulous glare at Al, knowing that reprimanding Mulder was not the way to get him to change his mind.

"Fine, you think of a better way for Scully and me to get our lives to some sort of normalcy."

"Mulder, the Truth is your life's work. Throw all that away, and what are you left with? Paralysis from the waste down? Believe me, Mulder, I know what it's like not to have a normal life. I barely have a memory of my life before I stepped into that time- machine. You could've taken the high road...but you didn't. Neither did I. I just somehow don't see you content grading papers." With that, Sam through the notes from the interview on the bed and stormed out before Mulder could say anything, Al had popped out, too.

It wasn't long before Al popped in and walked alongside Sam, who was making his way out to the car. "I can't help him, Al. Not while he won't help himself."

"You're not helping Mulder, you're helping Dana." Suddenly, Sam got an idea. Yes-it could work! She had convinced Al-

"Why can't we let Dana convince him he needs to fight back?"

May 19, 2001 Roswell NM;PQLHDQRTRS

The events of the preceding day had shaken Dana Scully to the core, for some reason or another, and for the life of her, she could not figure out why. Maybe it was because it was another hostage situation. The few that she had encountered over the years with Mulder had been traumatic for her, leaving nightmares years afterwards in their wake.

After Agent Doggett left the project and the aftermath of the days events settled, Scully helped clean the wound she had inflicted on Krycek's good shoulder. She didn't feel at all guilty about the injury this time, though. Scully thought Krycek was lucky to still be alive.

She was glad to see that Dr. Becket had the foresight to leave plans so that Ziggy could be rebuilt, and was glad that the technological advancements had allowed her to be back to normal working order within a few hours. With the peices of glass swept up, and the new screan rebuilt, Ziggy was back to her old self- if that was what you could call what Ziggy had.

She spent the rest of the day doing what research she could based on the information Al had sent via the handlink. It was a typical x-file. She wondered briefly what theory Mulder would be throwing at Sam, and all at once felt a strange sensation-half pity for Dr. Becket having to listen to those theories, and half a pang of regret for not being able to lash back with her usual scientific conclusions. She was going to wait up for Al, to see what progress they had made, but somewhere between the fourteenth cup of coffee and three am, she fell asleep on the couch in the waiting room.

It must have been close to morning when she jolted up on the couch. She blinked her eyes several times, wondering for a second if she was dreaming. Mulder's tall form stood in front of her, dressed in his trenchcoat and suit, hazel eyes fixated on her in an oxymoronic contentedly tortured gaze. She got up and moved closer to her partner, but as soon as she got close enough to touch, he vanished.

"I must be dreaming." She tried to convince herself. "I'm just over-tired and stressed. He wasn't just there...he didn't just vanish..."

She glanced at the print-outs from Ziggy's mainframe again, but she couldn't convince herself that something wasn't incredibly wrong.

Almost on cue, Al came in the waiting room, looking like something that had been dragged behind a pick-up truck for a while.

"Dana, something's gone very wrong. I'm going to need you to come with me and talk some sense into Mulder."

"I have been trying to talk sense into Mulder for seven years. Do you think for one minute he'd listen to what I have to say?"

"If you don't, Mulder's going to quit the x-files. You know, Dana," Al was saying, "I think this is the weirdest leap we've ever had. This old guy came into Mulder's room, smoking a cigarrette and threatened you and Mulder. The docs say he'll be walking soon, but he's pretty much decided that if he can't walk, then Old Smokey will leave him alone."

Suddenly, Scully remembered that Doggett saw her as Becket.

"Do you think he will know that this is me, and not Sam?"

"Oh yeah, he knows who Sam is now."

Scenes from the morning before flashed in front of her, and she remembered going unnoticed. If she remembered correctly from her physics studies, holographs were not visible in certain dimensions.

"Can Mulder see you and hear you?"

"Unfortunately. Sometimes I wish I could turn him off. Honestly, how you put up with that guy for seven years I'll never understand."

"So, let's break it down here. You've told me the situation here, and you've told Mulder who Sam is. You've brought in people from the outside... exactly what good are these set rules?"

"Sam wrote the rules mostly so the bigwigs in the Senate would sponsor funding for the project, and also to insure that the project couldn't be corrupted. We've broken pretty much every rule in the book. The last time we broke this many cardinal rules of the project was for a serial killer. If we hadn't broken the rules though, I don't think Sam or Mulder would've lasted this long."

"And here I thought Mulder was the maverick." she sighed resolutely

"Careful, Dana, people will start thinking you're a rebel."

"At least that means no more chances of comprimising situations for Dr. Becket." Scully said with a half-smile. Scully followed Al into the imaging chamber, hoping she would know what to say to change Mulder's mind. If he was gone, she knew she couldn't carry on Mulder's mission for the x-files.

Al was the last person Mulder thought he'd see back in his hospital room. Sam had gone for interviews at the Methodist college, and he would probably be gone for most of the day. For just a second, he saw the cigar and wondered if Al wasn't part of the consortium with C.B.G. Spender. As hard-assed as Al was, instincts told him he was a good guy.

"You still intent on quitting the FBI?"

Mulder only nodded coolly.

He'd spent the day flipping the stations, not really paying attention to what was on. He was angry. Angry at Krycek for taking the Truth from him. Angry at Sam for taking Scully away from him. Angry at his sister for being abducted. Angry at his father for allowing that to happen, and for dying. Angry at his mother for the same reason. He had called Skinner from his hospital room earlier, intending to tell him nothing more than to expect his resignation in the mail by the end of the week. He had left the message with the secretary, Kimberly; thankfully he didn't have to hear Skinner's protests.

"I don't need babysitting, Al. If Sam sent you to look after me, just tell him he's he one he should be worried about." Al punched a few buttons to check in on Sam. He was still on the road, so he figured he had a while. "I'm not here to babysit- although I've known two-year-olds act a lot older. I thought you owed an explanation to your partner." Mulder knew he owed her a lot more than an explanation.

Al's hand reached out next to him, and when he gripped the hand of a person next to him, suddenly, a man in a white cloth leotard appeared.

The way the man held himself though, and the way the eyes met his had a familiar quiet strength and furry screamed Dana Scully.

"What do you think about this case, Mulder?"

"White spandex is a great new look for you, Scully."

She arched her eyebrows. Mulder felt like a little kid who had been caught. He half heartedly filtered through the notes and the files.

"I-uh-don't see an x-file here. Well...at least not in these folders." He gave Al a dirty look. Scully couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was only a shadow of the man she thought she knew. He wasn't even putting up a fight. She knew she needed to pull him out of it.

"Do you have any hypothesis as to why those people are dead? Mulder, while I've been at the project complex, I've been following the case. I can't find a logical explanation for their deaths. I was looking at those files, wondering what wild theory you'd be feeding poor Dr. Becket-half jealous that I wasn't there to counter it with logic, and then watch as you proved me- - to everybody that they were wrong."

"The truth hasn't set us free, Scully. It's trapped us."

"You can't give up yet...not when we're so damn close to what we're looking for. The Fox Mulder *I* know doesn't give up that easily."

"Scully...I can't just let everything around me crumble. The best answer I can come up with is to get out while we both can."

"MULDER!" Scully suddenly exploded. Both Al and Mulder jumped. Al had a hard time keeping his grip on Scully. Scully and Mulder both seemed to be loosing their grips on their emotions. "GODDAMMIT MULDER, LISTEN TO ME! For once, in your life listen to reason. For once in our seven years as partners...PLEASE listen to me." Mulder turned off the television.

"You told me a long time ago that I keep you honest. Mulder- you- keep me going."

"Spender will kill us if we continue."

Scully shook her head. She could tell by the way his facial expression softened, she was getting through to him. At least that's what she had to hope.

"We've beat him before. We can beat him again. Please, Mulder...it's not over yet. I need justice for my sister. I need justice for Emily. I can't get that without our work on the x- files. I don't think I could continue the x-files without you. Not with the same spirit."

"You know I want justice for everything they've destroyed. If I- -walk away-" he looked awkwardly down at his legs, not realizing the poigniancy of the expression "we both get out of this alive."

"Al, I don't think there is any way I can get him to say. He's seemed to have made up his mind."

"Scully, wait-" he started weakly, but she broke him off

"Are you going to tell me what you really think is in that x- file?"

Mulder remained silent.

"When Fox Mulder comes back, let me know."

Mulder couldn't understand why Scully didn't see his way of thinking. But then again, Scully never did. Why should he expect different from her now. Goodbye just didn't seem right to say at that moment, so it was left unsaid. As so many other things were left unsaid to Scully.

Mulder was grateful that it wasn't long after Al and Scully popped out that the nurse came to gave him another dose of painkillers. For once in his life, the needle the nurse used to administer the medication didn't phase him.

"I've faced aliens, monsters, freaks of nature, and Scully very pissed off...why am I bothered so much by fire and needles?"

This thought sent a lopsided grin across his face as the drugs took over consciousness.

In the waiting room of the Quantum Leap Project in New Mexico in the year 2015, Scully's anger at Mulder still hadn't subsided.

How could he just let their work go like that? How could he just leave her like that? All the times she had stuck by him...all the vigils she had kept by him...all the vigils he had kept beside her...gone up in smoke.

Mulder just wasn't being-well-Mulder. Had this one setback made him a different person all together?

A line from an old Tennyson poem she read in school a long time ago came back to her.

"We are all that we have met."

She was a woman in a male-dominated field; she was a woman who had battled cancer; she was a woman who suffered the losses of a sister and a daughter; She was every social interaction that had taken place-Dr. Waterson, and all the people she had encountered throughout her life. She had learned from them, and grew from them; thus becoming another person entirely from those interactions and exchanges.

Each experience building on every other experience; every encounter building on every other encounter. She smiled to herself as she thought it was like those crystals Missy used to play with-they build and build, forming matter from matter. But most of who she had become since her involvement in the x-files- -indeed, most of who she had become in her entire life-was a part of Fox Mulder.

Dana Scully was not going to sit down and just let him take away all they had worked so hard for. She could not allow that to happen.

Al had gone to his apartment complex to get some much needed sleep while Sam conducted the interviews needed at the Methodist College. He and Sam had figured that the interviews would take the rest of the day, so Sam told Al to go back and get some rest. Al was glad for the break. He was at the point of "tired" when you're way beyond the fourth wind. Sleep didn't seem possible. He thought he needed to do *SOMETHING* to change Mulder's mind. He racked his brain until he couldn't concentrate anymore, figuring that after sleep, he could come up with something

Sam was completely furious with Mulder, very thankfull that the excursion to the Methodist College allowed some time to clear his head. How could he just make his mind up to leave like that? He knew Mulder thought he was doing the noble thing-but who else was going to carry on the work? What would happen to Scully? He prayed that Scully would be able to make him see logic. Somehow, Sam couldn't help but think that logic missed Mulder's arena of thought completely.

As open-minded and as intelligent as Mulder apparently was, he certainly was one- sided.

It was midafternoon by the time he got to the campus. He had gone back to the parents of the children and gotten their physician's names, seeing if there was any link to their medical history that would shed any light on the case. He then went to Sherrif Hayward's office, who then gave Sam a composite of the girl and her information. A social security number told Sam that she would be in class.

The campus itself was an odd mixture of contemporary office buildings and antebellum southern architecture, the Greek collumns and terricota bricks starkly contrasting the flat, mint-green stucco complexes. A blooming magnolia tree domineered the parking space, thankfully allowing shade. The streets were lined with a shade of green that was almost paridot with the recent onslaught of pollen. Blooms from wysteria, tulips, and dogwoods litered the slightly damp sidewalks. It was a small campus with none of the buildings being more than two stories tall. It was a beautiful day, the kind that was inviting, and the students were all milling about. This was the South, so asking a friendly stranger for directions wasn't a faux pas. The registrar's office was apparently a floor up from the class that she was just about to get out of. Sam sat outside her class. It was small, with only about ten students. The professor had drawn a rediculously sketchy map of Europe-waves of blue chalk representing the ocean, an oblong circle ontop of a boot in orange.

"I wouldn't win on Win Loose or Draw." the class errupted in peels of laughter. The professor continued on his lecture about the reformation and its impact on Christianity, speeling information about what theorist thought what on the happenings. Sam wondered if the asbestos in the halls finally got to the professor.

"And for next time, scholars," the professor chirpped, "chapter 5 and 6 from The Big Darn Book." The class all filed out, and Sam stopped the girl that looked like the one in the computer composite.

"Miss? I'm with the FBI. Can you tell me about what happened over Spring Break?"

The girl pretended not to notice Sam and broke into a run, tearing down the stairs. Before Sam could c*ck Scully's gun, she was lost in the crowd.

Sam ran back to the registrar's office, and thankfully they gave him the room there. Sam took Scully's gun and shot open the door. The girl was in the room, her chest cavity petrified and hollowed like a log, covered in acid burns everywhere else. Sam knew Al well enough to know that he wouldn't be very far. He went into the restrooms down the hall, relieved to find that no one was in there.

"Al! Al!" He hissed into the air. The bright blue light of the chamber door opened and Al blinked a couple of times and yawned, shaking his head. Sam felt a little guilty for shaking Al from sleep.

"Wha-huh?"

"The-girl! The only witness! I tried to catch her coming out of class, and I lost her in the crowd."

"What happened?"

"I dunno, Al." Sam was glad that for once Al wasn't making jokes about being in an all-girls' school, or in a bathroom. "I had gotten her room number earlier, and shot her lock off, and I found her body like the rest of the victims."

"You think she knew something she wasn't supposed to?"

"I seriously don't know. Maybe whoever-"

"Whatever." Al insisted.

"Whatever?"

"I don't think what killed that girl was human, Sam. Dana doesn't think so, either. She says she's seen this sort of thing before-alien viruses. She's seen it in black oil. She thinks that this is the ocean variety."

"But I don't get it Al? Why not just takeover? Why murder?"

"Scully says that sometimes minds have a hard time being submissive to the virus. This girl musta been holding out."

"Can you get Ziggy to get me the supervisor's number?"

"Sam, you don't wanna do that. I know Kersch. Another Admiral pulled strings to get him that spot, and the man below him, a one Walter Skinner. Kersch is a horses ass. That nozzel will do everything in his power to pull the plug on the investigation. He was the one pushing to stop funding for Quantum Leap."

"Al, how is it that Mulder and Scully have been in operation for seven years if their immediate boss is part of the conspiracy. I don't think this Skinner guy is gonna try and stop us."

"No...not if you get proof that the conspiracy and alien takeover is a real threat."

"So, basically, what you're saying, Al, is that all I've gotta do to leap is prove the existance of aliens."

"You got it, kiddo. Show 'em E.T. And that's your ticket outta here."

"Oh boy!"

"Al, how am I supposed to prove something I don't even beleive yet."

"What do you mean, *yet* Sam? You mean you're starting to?"

"I can't ignore what I saw today. I can't ignore what I saw in Scully's flashbacks. I can't ignore what's happened to them."

"Look, Sam...this goes all the way to the White House. I was left out of it because of my involvement with you, but a lot of my colleagues were roped in by this consortium called FEMA. They pretty much pulled rank so FEMA could have their thumbs under the FBI, CIA, and all the other alphabet soups in D.C. Get hard- iron proof alien existance, and you, me, Mulder, and Scully can blow these guys right into early retirement. It turns out, Senator Matheson-our Government Angel-helps the X-Files division, too."

"And why couldn't you say anything about it, Al?"

"Because-thanks to you, I'm already a considered a nutcase. I hold no credibility with them."

"Exactly what does FEMA need to cover up?"

"FEMA's not in existance anymore. They couldn't agree on what was right, and mostly killed each other off, as far as we know."

"What *WERE* they trying to cover up, then?"

"Alien colonization of the human race." Al wasn't kidding.

"Al-what tabloid did you get *THAT* storyline out of?"

"Why do you think Alex Krycek left Agent Mulder for dead?"

"He was obviously close to something they didn't want-known..."

"And what is it that Agent Mulder looks into that certain people might not want found out?" He whistled the Twilight Zone theme.

"Alien colonization." Sam said dryly. "See what Ziggy can dig up on that girl. I'll...uh...do an autopsy once the coroner gets here, and make sure that the cause of death was the same as the others."

Spartanburg was the county seat, so the FBI agents were local, and it didn't take long for Sam to explain to Agents Ortega and Morris on what had happened. Being gentlemen, they accepted what Sam had said in an icily polite manner that could only be described as Southern. Sam was glad he didn't have time to stick around much to hear them laughing at what he had said. The autopsy had take interminably long. It was close to nightfall before Sam finished. It was the same thing. The sulfur on petrified bone tissue with the sea-water chemicals. Sam still couldn't understand what the connection was with sulfur and aliens.

After the autopsy was completed, Sam contacted the kid's physicians. Since Newberry was a small town, the physician was the same. They were all taking either celexa, lithium, or proxin-antideprecents.

Sam was on his way back when Al appeared on the hood of the rental car. Lucky for Sam, the road was virtually empty, because when Al appeared, he slid over the road.

"Can't you just pop in like a normal person for once?"

"Normal people aren't holograms, Sam. I guess Goushie misfired when he tried to center me on you."

"So whatchya got?"

"The kids all have one thing in common: they all suffered from depression, mild dyslexia, and ADD. Dana thinks the reason they were killed has something to do with the fact that the way their brains misfired didn't let the alien virus soak in."

"That makes sense...but still...I don't get the connection with the sulfur and the sea water."

"Dana also said something about high sulfur contents being associated with sea water-whatever that means."

"Sulfur is a conduit." Sam matter-of-facted

"Conduwhat?"

"Conduit. It's like a wire...what if the sulfur serves as a conduit for the virus?"

"And the medications messed up the wiring?"

"Exactly. Anyway-about all the FEMA business...I'm sorry all this stuff kept you out of it."

"Sam...you don't understand...FEMA's a really bad group to get messed up in. They're worse than the KKK. I'd rather be a part of this any day."

"Anyway...I must need sleep...this stuff is actually making sense. So,

did you and Scully get Mulder to change his mind?" Al shook his head.

"He thinks he's doing the only thing he can to help them both live in peace. Nothing Dana said got through to him. I popped in at the hospital, and he won't do any of the physical therapy, or anything."

"He's the only one the FBI's got right now that will help us proove aliens exist."

"Then if he won't-I've gotta find the solid proof." They had gotten to the hotel room. Al sailed through the door- it was always unnerving, but after what Sam had seen today-it was almost normal. He didn't even notice that Al had frozen in his tracks.

"Where the hell are we gonna get proof Al?" Sam was suddenly aware of someone in the room.

"Maybe this will help."

Alex Krycek stood there, holding a vile full of green goo.

"What I can't figure out is why this guy wants to help Mulder." Al was standing there, obviously flustered by the man's appearance, his jaw dropped to his feet.

"Why's that?" Al wasn't sure who the question was for-him or the man standing in the room.

"Never mind the why's, Agent Scully."

"Because this guy paid us a visit the project, and he wasn't selling encyclopedias. He's trouble Sam. His name is Alex Krycek"

"Krycek!" Sam hissed, just remembering that this was the one who had tried to run Mulder off the road yesterday morning.

"Something you wanted, Agent Scully?"

"Yes, actually...I need proof." "For what, the attempted murder of Agent Mulder, proof of breaking and entering, or proof of..."

"Careful, Sam. This rat may not be the best person to ask for proof about aliens. It would be like asking Hannibal over for dinner."

At Sam's confused glance at the reference, Al gave him a dismissing shrug.

"...little green men?" Krycek finished with an evil grin that sent a chill up both Sam's and Al's spine. "I want Spender to rot in hell. I need your help. I think you need mine. It looks like our Spooky's lost faith in his own cause...I think this green goo could do the trick."

"I don't get it, Krycek...why did you leave him for dead two days ago only to help us now?"

"I didn't mean for that accident to happen. It was just one of those mishaps. I can't help those rental cars having lousy handling."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"It is true what I told Mulder. I need Spender dead. I've been his lacky ever since I got involved in FEMA, and I need to return the favor for sending me to prison. With Mulder laid up, you're the only one who can help me do that."

"Why would you help me?" Sam, for one reason or another, didn't pull Scully's gun out.

"I need Mulder back at the FBI as much as you do. I can use what he knows to get what I need."

"What is it you need?"

"Spender either dead or prison. I'd rather it be prison. With Spender dead, then I can take control over the FEMA.

"How does that help Mulder and me?"

"It keeps you alive."

Al was shaking his head fervently. "Don't trust him, Sam. FEMA's been after Mulder and Scully ever since Scully got assigned to the x-files.

They are bent on alien colonization. FEMA BAD, Sam!"

"How do you figure? FEMA has been trying to kill us for seven years."

"Once FEMA regroups, with Spender dead, I can Influence them to stop attacking you and Mulder."

"That still doesn't add up, Krycek. Mulder and I are trying to put a stop to colonization. With you at the top of it, if colonization stops-that makes you in control of everything."

"I don't want to be in control of FEMA. Help me, Agent Scully, and where FEMA's concerned, I can garauntee you and Mulder's safety. Help me out, and the x-files will be in charge of negotiations."

"I don't believe you, Krycek."

"Fine. Don't take me up on my offer. It's all in your hands, Agent."

"What's in my hands?"

Krycek folded his hands across his chest, and tilted his head up, a cocky snort accompanied by a smug grin spread across his face-as if the answer was completely obvious to him.

"You're partner's life." With that, Krycek walked out the door.

"I'm gonna go back to the hospital and update him." He glanced at the clock. "I've got an hour before visiting hours are over."

Sam got Scully's keys and left, and locked the door. Al walked through and disappeared, and reappeared in the car.

"I'll go with you." Sam gave Al a questioning glance, "You don't need to be there with me for this. I thought you and Mulder got on each other's nerves." He started the car.

"Yeah...well, I gotta give a report on how things are going with him to Dana. Besides...despite the fact that he's being a horses ass right now, the kid's growing on me."

"You know what they say about birds of a feather..." Sam ribbed. Then suddenly he sobered, and brushed a peice of stray auburn hair from Scully's face. "I can't let anything happen to them, Al. They're all they've got."

"They've got us now, Sam."

.

"How am I gonna stop that Krycek guy and Mr. Spender from killing them?"

"We'll figure something. Maybe Mulder's got an idea."

"Anything change?" Sam clung to the dim hope that maybe he had changed history by not accepting Krycek's offer.

"Dana still gets killed, Sam."


	9. Chapter 9

They pulled into the hospital parking lot, and approached Mulder's room, hoping that he wasn't asleep. Al disappeared and reappeared in Mulder's room with a few buttons.

"How long have we had the technology for teleporting?" Mulder asked, half-joking.

"Longer than you think, kid. Oil lobbiests wouldn't go for it, coz it would cost'em too much money in transportation losses. How's it going?"

Mulder cracked a bitter grin at him. "Wanna beer and a hotdog, Al? I'll call a nurse to get a tube for ya. You can pull up a chair and chow down with me."

"I'll stick to bad Project coffee and a great cigar any day, kid."

"No technology to get good coffee yet?"

"No matter what they do in technology, some things never change."

"I guess not." Sam came in just then. He sometimes envied Al for being able to pop in and out.

"We've got problems, Mulder." Suddenly Mulder's expression "What's wrong, Sam."

"Krycek paid me a visit." Then he briefed Mulder on the rest of the story. "So, Mulder...do you still not believe that this is an x-file?" Sam

demanded.

A crooked grin spread across his face. "Usually, it's me asking that one. I-uh-definately think we've got something weird going on"

"I don't think Krycek or Spender is going to let either you or Scully off that easy." Al was saying, "He'll probably hunt you down as soon as you leave the FBI. This time you'll have no way to defend yourself-or Scully." With a glance, he tossed the ball of conversation over to Sam.

"Go ahead, Sam. Tell him what happened today."

"I went to question the only live witness, and she ran off and was killed before I got to ask her anything."

"By who?"

"You mean what, Mulder. The thing that killed her wasn't human. She was found just like the rest of the bodies. She ran off, and I found her in her dormroom before it was too late."

"So what do you think?"

"E.T.'s in the seawater, kid." Al grinned

"Look, they were just vacationing on a beach. All were taking antidepressants. You're a psychologist, Mulder...I don't have to tell you what happens to the brain in clinical depression."

"What does that have to do with anything?

"If the drinking water around the area had high contents fo sulfur, it could induse radio-active chemicals that were previously resistant. On prolonged exposure to the drugs, the mind-power that the aliens have could seep in, and since the ADD made the kids resistant to the mind-control, they were terminated." "Even if that was the case, there's no way to proove their existance."

"Of course there is. Tell Skinner, he'll go for it."

"Yeah, and then he'll put me in a straight-jacket. I've already been there and done that Sam. I'd really rather not be back in the psych ward."

"Believe what you want, but the only way you can help me or Scully is by walking again."

"I just wanna be left alone." Mulder insisted. And he really did.

"Look, Gretta Garbo..." Al started. He was the only person Sam knew who could look intimidating holding a cigar wearing a bright teal suit with a red shirt. "The only way you're going to be left alone at all is if you fight that Krycek creep and the Smoking Schnozz. You are not going to just give this up. Not if Sam and I have anything to do with it. So what am I gonna go back and tell Dana? That she might as well prepare for the worst?"

"It is NONE of your damn business!" Mulder almost-shouted.

"Scully and Sam can take care of themselves. I can't walk out of here. It's out of my hands, Al."

"That's up to you, kid." Al said and with a push of a few buttons, a bright blue light flashed and the chamber door was open, and Al was gone. Mulder, as much as I hate to admit it...Al's right. It's up to you."

"Visiting hours are over, miss." Reminded a rather large and formidable looking nurse at the door. "I just hope she recognizes you when she comes back, Mulder." Sam said as he left Mulder alone to mope.

Wallowing in self pity just wasn't his style-but neither was being forced into anything, either. He had always been his own man...no matter what. Now, circumstances out of his control were making it extremely hard to get out of the trap of self-pity. He thought of a movie he saw once on television within the last two days..."The Princess Bride."

Yes...Mulder thought he was in his own little Pitt of Dispair. Soon, the pain killers the nurse administered just then thankfully took over his consciousness, and Mulder drifted to an uneasy sleep. At least it was a break from life without Scully.

In the waiting room in New Mexico fifteen years in the future, Scully sat and listened to what Al was saying about the progress of the leap. She somehow wasn't surprised. Things like this had happened before in her career with the x-files. What she was surprised at though, was Mulder's apparent inability to believe that they needed to somehow get to the consortium.

"Sam and I are doing all we can, Dana. Don't give up yet."

"I don't intend to." And she didn't. She never had when it came to Mulder.

"What would you do, if you were Sam and me?"

She cracked a small smile. "Kick his ass."

"Somehow, Scully, I wouldn't doubt it. Any ideas on getting the consortium?"

"We've been trying for seven years. The only way they could ever get to Mulder was through me."

"And you still don't think he loves you?"

"He might have earlier...but things are different now."

"What's so different, Scully? He'll be good to go if someone can make him understand he needs to fight. Anger is not always negative."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. Then an idea transpired, flooding her expression. "Can I pay him a visit with you tomorrow?"

"I don't see why not. Why? What are you gonna say to him?"

May 20, 2001; 7:45 Newberry Hotel; Newberry SC

Sam drug himself out of bed, nearly tearing the sockets out of the walls as he pawed around for the off button, and puttered about the hotel room, continuing what he could of a morning routine. He was very glad that Dana Scully did not wear that much make-up. Sam prayed for one of two things to happen that day: for Mulder to change his mind; or for some way to get the consortium.

Al met him at the hospital that morning, but with better news.

"Scully says that the only thing that can get to Mulder is her."

"Fascinated by that little tidbit as I am, Dear Abby, I don't think that helps us much." Sam quipped.

"Someone's not a morning person!" Sam could only glare.

"What if we tell Mulder what Scully's fate is if we don't succeed?"

"It's against the rules."

"Exactly how many rules have we broken this leap?"

Sam sighed defeatedly. Al was right. They had broken pretty much every rule in the book, but that was the only thing they could do. They were almost at Mulder's room. Al popped in ahead of him.

"Hey kid. How's it going."

"Hey Al...want some green jello?"

"They moved you to liquid. That's a good sign, Mulder." Sam said as he walked in."

"Green jello Sam?" to which Sam shook his head. Mulder was obviously not happy about his first real food.

"You wanna go back to Hot Dogs a la feeding tube, Mulder?" Mulder took a reluctant bite of the applesauce.

"So whatchya got today, guys?"

"Actually, Mulder, we've got some news." Al started, "Sam, why don't you tell him." he cued.

"If you don't walk out of this hospital, Scully and I are in trouble."

"Trouble?"

"I was originally here to stop you from being killed." Sam answered nervously, and glanced at Al to finish the rest.

"But that recycling job you did with your rental car Sunday morning changed things just a bit." Al continued, "Instead of you being in danger now, it's Scully." Mulder abruptly sunk back into his pillow, and the color in his face drained so he almost blended in with the sheets.

"When is it supposed to happen?" Mulder asked.

Al punched in a few buttons to consult the handlink. "Still tomorrow. Estimated time of death was placed at around 4:30pm. Cause of death being a gunshot wound in the back of the head." Sam knew how that guy who invented TNT felt-reading his fate. At least the guy who invented TNT took his prize money and created the Nobel Peace Prize after he read his fate.

"That means that Spender was bluffing."

"That just means he was lying, Mulder," Al said. He probably didn't plan to kill you at all. "I think he fully intends to make you suffer for as long as possible."

"I've made deals with him before to help Scully. It doesn't make sense that he'd kill her. He knows she's my trump card, so to speak."

"I wouldn't put that on a Hallmark, Mulder." Al growled.

"What about Krycek? He could have needed her dead."

"No...Krycek only does things for his own agendas. The only way he'd kill Scully or me is if it helped him out, and I don't think we're in standing in his way on this case. I think it's someone else."

"Who then?"

"In the past, we've run into bounty hunters. What if the alien race the consortium was trying to colonize with found out she knew something with this case, and needed her dead."

"Why not just convert her?" Al interjected. Mulder shook his head. "We dunno. She's already been abducted. If they wanted to change her body, they would have already. We don't understand a lot of their motives yet."

"Yet?" Al echoed back sternly. "You back in the race now Mulder?" Al and Sam were both trying extremely hard-and not succeeding too well-to hide their relief.

Mulder nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I-uh-better call Skinner and tell him not to get Scully a new partner just yet."

"You do that, Mulder. I'll update Scully." Al said, and with a push of a few buttons, the swish-and-click of the chamber door opening, Al was gone.

"I'm gonna go back to the county morgue and see what I can find. Maybe there will be proof in the autopsies." Finally some light was being shed on the case. Mulder was finally coming to his senses.

Sam left Mulder's hospital lighter on his feet than he had in days. The bounty-hunter would be an obstacle, but he knew how to fight if necessary. Being a part of something so huge-proving that aliens were real-made him remember when he first began steps toward the

Quantum Leap Project. He remembered when Starbrite seemed huge to him...Quantum Leap was nothing compared to this discovery.

He got to the morgue, put on scrubs, and almost whistled down the hallway to where the bodies were. Suddenly, almost as instantly as Al appeared was the figure of a girl-long brown hair, short, stalky figure-then he instantly remembered- it was the girl from the Methodist College... only she was supposed to be dead in Spartanburg. Sam froze solid at the sight of her. This was not the frightened girl he saw earlier. She looked the same-but the expression in her face was gone.

As she stepped forward, Sam realized that her eyes were dull...black almost. She moved forward, at a deceivingly fast pace. Sam found himself hypnotized for a few seconds.

Very gingerly, as if the girl were an animal about to attack, he crouched down to get the ankle holster. He shot her in the shoulder-he didn't want to kill her if she was alive and human.

Sam was completely baffled by the green ooze he saw seeping profusely from the wound.

She was still walking toward him. He shot again, this time at her chest. She crumpled, but didn't fall. She got closer, finally, at a three-inch range, Sam fired one last desperate shot at her neck. She fell this time, green ooze falling everywhere. Sam approached the corpse cautiously- not sure that the woman would be springing up at him.

She-it- whatever that was-was definately expired.

Sam got a bit of the goo in a test tube, which was beginning to burn his eyes, and Sam grabbed some of the lab's goggles. This was all the proof they needed. Yep, looked like in just a few minutes, he would leap-maybe even home this time.

So why was he still here? He shook the question out of his head, as he took the vile of goo to the lab, and ran tests on it. It was absolutely incredible. Three strands of DNA. Extra types of cells, apparently as an extra line of defense against diseases-this one that faught viral infections. This species was clearly more advanced in the evolutionary scale.

"Al! Al!" He yelled into the air. In a few seconds, Al was there.

"The girl!"

"Ooooh! The girl? What girl?"

"That one." Sam said, pointing to the ground. "The one that was *DEAD* yesterday."

"Yikes!" Al sounded to Sam like something out of a comic book.

"Al-the only way I was able to stop her was with the shoulder, and look at this-a third DNA strand, extra defense cells, regeneration properties..."

"In English please, professor?"

"The only thing on earth known to regenerate that fast is the starfish."

"So you think the sulfur deposites and the starfish are connected somehow?"

"Finally, Al, all those b-movies paid off." Sam was practically beaming with the news. He could barely keep from dancing. "Look, Al!" He shouted, holding up the vile.

"$.99 special at Toys-R-Us." "No, no...it came from her."

"No kiddin'?"

Sam nodded. "So why am I still here?"

Al punched a few buttons in the handlink. Being a part of Quantum Leap and being in Vietnam, he had seen a lot-but nothing as disturbing as the sight on the lab floor. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the corpse where the green ooze was apparently-for want of a better term-clotting.

"Apparently, Dana Scully's body is still found three days from now, time of death tomorrow approximately at 4:30. I don't see a gun around anywhere except for Dana's 385. Did the girl use a gun to attack you?"

"No...no...she didn't. She was going to use her hands."

Sam's thoughts were still going two thousand miles a minute trying to peice everything together-all the implications, possible consequences-of what was found.

"How civil of her." Al deadpanned.

"Somehow, I don't think aliens are worried about being civilized. I think her host was trying to use the most proficient way whatever-it-was knew how. Why do you think the aliens targetted Scully?"

"I dunno..." His eyes were bouncing between what Sam was working on with the goo and the corpse on the floor. He never had been blessed with a very strong stomach. How he made it through the grotesqueness of the Vietnam War with sanity intact was completely beyond him.

Sam's thoughts were going faster than his hands could write them. Corrosive, regenerative properties, very acidic, high hydrogen mass. He remember reading reports how the star of Vega had the same properties as the sun. He wondered briefly if that was where this creature came from.

It was a long time before either of them spoke. Sam finally broke the awed silence that fogged the air almost tangibly.

"If she didn't kill me just now, then that must have changed history. Did Dana say anything to you about being attacked by the dead girl?" "She said she'd run into things like that in her career before, she wasn't surprised, but she didn't say that that was a part of the original history. Something you did must have changed history, Sam."

"My God Al! She must have lived earlier."

"No, she was one of the dead with the four kids." Al said with a few buttons in the handlink. He hated it when Sam beat himself up mentally with guilt. Sam just didn't understand that some things were not within his power. Al thought Mulder had the same problem.

"What did I change then? And who is after Scully?"

"Maybe the aliens know that you're not Scully."

"How's that possible? They were after who they thought was Scully, not me!"

"Sam, they abducted Dana three years ago-isn't it possible that they had the technology to get her DNA? If they are a more advanced species like you're saying, then they probably have better equipment more accurate than ours, and would know that Scully wasn't who she appeared to be on sight."

"I still don't get how that's possible."

"If Cher can win an Emmy, and Madonna can have a hit movie, then why can't aliens have the ability to detect DNA?"

"Alright-if they know I'm not Scully, then why do I get shot tomorrow and not strangled?"

"I dunno, Sam. I know Mulder doesn't think so, but my money's on Smokey."

"What makes you think it's the Smoking Man, Al? Why can't it be Krycek?"

"If Krycek wanted to kill Scully earlier, he would have. Like Mulder said earlier, he has no motive to kill Scully."

"That still doesn't make sense, Al-Smoking Man doesn't have a motive to kill Scully, either."

"I don't do I?" Came an arrogant, cracked voice from the doorway.

"Talking to yourself, again, Agent Scully? Some of your partner's influence creeping in, no doubt."

The old man expressionlessly took another puff of his cigarette.

"I-uh-do that sometimes...helps me think clearly."

He stood across from him face to face. Sam eyed the gun that was lying on the examination table. There was certainly something threatening about the man, but he hadn't attacked. There as nothing he could do.

The old man noticed something different around the eyes. There was none of the resentment or anger-only sadness. The eyes seemed-older-somehow. As though they belonged to someone who had experienced more. He took a puff of his ciagarette-more certain now than ever that this was not Dana Scully.

"There's something *different* about you these past few days, Agent. You look-older...more experienced-something about the eyes. The other day when I paid Agent Mulder a visit, I didn't see any recognition behind the eyes whatsoever. You didn't know who I was."

"You're imagining things." Sam hoped that the stale way he said that didn't hide how completely terrified he was.

"You're talking to people who don't exist, and I'm the one imagining things? Agent Scully, you used to be so intelligent...so promising before you got involved in the x- files."

"I was talking to myself-no one's here except me and you."

"Be as it may, I came by to offer some of the promise you had before joining the x-files. Think of it, Agent Scully. Can you even remember when you were respected by your own peers?"

"My partner respects me. My boss respects me. My family respects me. That's all that counts, isn't it?"

"Give me those notes, Agent Scully, hand over the vile, and I'll make sure the x-files office gets the credibility back that it deserves."I tried to gie you a chance. I always thought that you were leagues above your partner. You are really above all this science fiction. Agent, the vile, please. And all the notes." Sam lunged at him, but he backed off when a tall man with olive skin and dark hair and a gun emerged at the door.

"Just give him the research, Sam." Al suggested. "We'll catch up with him later."

Sam defeatedly handed the legal pad laced with scribblings and the vile of green goo over to the old man, who then handed it to the man with the gun.

They waited for a minute, to make sure they were gone. Sam grabbed the gun from the examination table, mentally kicking himself for not grabbing it and using it when he had the chance.

"Go SAM! I'll go center on Smokey and give you his location. We'll get the proof back, and put Smokey and his lacky in his place, and then you'll be outta here."

Sam raced out the door, keys in hand. He figured the best bet was the heaviest traffic, so he headed for I-85. Al popped back seconds later to tell him he had guessed accurately. "He's about five miles ahead, Sam, about to head on the overpass.

Sam slammed his foot on the gas petal, praying nobody's lives would be a casualty of this chase. He pulled out his cellphone, and called Sherrif Hayward for back-up.

He sped along, a couple of cars behind a black sedan with tinted windows so that he couldn't see what was inside. A butt flew out the window from the back passenger side...he had to wonder...

"That's him ahead, Sam. In the black sedan with the Maryland plates." Al urged, almost as if he could tell what guess Sam was making. "Just stay on his tail, and we should catch up with him."

Shots rang out, and a bullet spiderwebbed the windshield. A semi passed in front of them as they went on the overpass. The sedan slammed on its breaks. The semi fishtailed, spinning in a half circle, sending the sedan over the gaurdrail.

In a split second, the sedan burst into flames onto the grassy meridian below. Sam felt like he had just lost a lifetime of work in that car. The rush of adrenaline was gone, but he went to check on the truckdriver, who was thankfully in better condition than the back of his truck, which was slammed up against the gaurdrail and crunch together with the apparent ease of an aluminum can under a foot. He crawled out of the cabin, and escaped with minor bruises.

"I let them down, Al." Sam almost-whispered, and prepared to leap.

He didn't want to accept defeat, but if his mission was to stop Scully from being killed, and that old man with the cigarette was her killer, then he should get ready to move on.

"There was no way we could've stopped this from happening.

With Smokey out of the picture, maybe they can finally live normal lives."

"The evidence-Al...I let the evidence just get destroyed...no one will ever know what we found."

"That's nothing new, Sam. No one knows time-machines are real except for Scully and Mulder, me and you, the rest of those people working on the project, and Him." He pointed his cigar upward.

"Maybe it's just information that's not meant to be found. Besides, if you *DID* find the evidence, who would you take it to? You'd be put in a straight jacket before you could say that they were gray and not green."

Sam left Scully's card with the driver, saying if there were any problems later. He waited with the man until Sherrif Hayward rolled up, and explained what had happened.

Al punched a few numbers into the handlink. He just couldn't believe that this was all over. Maybe he just didn't want to believe it. "Let's see...the driver and Spender both have no more records on them. But, apparently, there was nothing on Spender before all this, so that doesn't mean much."

No sooner had Al put the calculater-sized handlink back in the pocket where it resided did it make a beeping sound. Al whipped it back out and his eyes widened at the data that trafficked across the screen.

"According to Ziggy, both Dana and Mulder are killed tomorrow. Mulder's death is ruled as a medical accident, and Dana's killer is never found. Their boss, A.D. Walter Skinner tried to keep the case open, but that horses *ss Kersch pushed for his early retirement, and closed the case as soon as he picked up his last chest. You're not out of this yet, Sam." Sam raked his hands down his face and rubbed the back of his neck, as if the motion would squease out some sort of solution. He felt something funny at the base of the spine. It was small- like shrapnel.

"Al?"

"Yeah, Sam?"

"Did Scully say she got shot in the spine at one point?"

"No-why?"

"Just a weird bump back there, is all."

"I wouldn't worry, Sam. Probably just an old wound."

"Do you think you can get Dana back here?

"I don't see why not. She and Mulder could probably come up with an idea of who might be behind all this. Besides, I need to tell her that Mulder's turned around."

"Alright, I'll meet you at the hospital in a few minutes."

With a swish and a click, the bright blue of the chamber door was open, and with one fell swoop, closed, and Al was gone. Sam left in the rental car to update Mulder.

Scully was glancing over more file reports. Yes, it had to have something to do with the sea-water. Were starfish the first attempt at alien/human hybrids? They are, for as much as biologists are concerned, an enigma. They are the only ones in their classes.

If any place on earth could hide alien life form, it could be the seawater. So little is known about what is down in the depths. So little territory unexplored. Her brother Bill had often wondered why people didn't try to find the secrets of the ocean before they tried to find more about outter space. The Mulderesque thought that had just invaded her stream of consciousness abaded her for a split second. She shook her head and grinned at how much exactly Mulder had influenced her.

If her colleagues at Quantico ever heard a statement like that coming from her mouth, she'd be laughed right out into unemployment. If he was no longer a part of their work... She forced that thought out of her mind as she glanced for what must have been the thousandth time over the notes. After all, Mulder seemed to be taking the self-pity trips enough for the both of them. Where was Al? Hadn't he promised her a visit with Mulder?

Suddenly Al appeared in the waiting room door.

"Sorry it took so long, Scully. A lot's happened this morning." The anxious expression told him to continue. She stood thoughtful, accepting and expressionless as Al tried to rattle off the events of what had happened.

"So Spender's dead?" she wanted to believe it, but somehow didn't think she could.

"We dunno for sure. We didn't see anyone get out of the car before it blew up, but that doesn't mean that he didn't escape alive somehow."

"I think he would find a way out somehow. The only one I've ever known with more tenacity than Mulder is Spender."

"Anyway...I'm sorry I didn't get you this morning. Come with me. We've all got some things to work out. We need you in on our discussion about what the deal is. And Mulder's turned around." Scully didn't let the relief that washed over her show on her face. She followed Al into the imaging chamber, and stood in hospital-light brightness for a second. Mulder and Sam were in the waiting room, Sam meticulously checking every monitor Mulder was hooked up to. He was sitting up now, and glad that the doctors thought that observation was only necessary for another day. The physical therapist said earlier that morning that he was making better than normal progress and should be walking within a day with the help of a cane.

With the swish like the sound of a heavy gate, a rectangular shape of electric-blue light opened, and Al appeared. He put the handlink in his pocket, and held out his hand. Scully took it, appearing in the tall dark-haired form of Sam in a white stretched suit that covered the body. Again, just as before, something about the man's countenance-the stoic, fiery, and comforting all at once bespoke in his stance-gave away isntantly the fact that it was Scully.

"So you decided to join the living, Mulder?" She said with eyebrow aptly arched. "Hey Scully. Yeah...I thought about it, and as attractive as bondage sounds-it wouldn't do to have my favorite muscle paralyzed." He leered.

Scully and Sam both shook their heads in defeat. They were both a little astounded by the similarities of each other.

"What did I tell ya, Al? Don't you think they'd make a great couple?"

The other three occupants of the room suppressed a groan of dismay.

"How did you ever figure out that Sam wasn't me?" demanded Scully with a knowing half-grin spreading across her face.

"That's easy. He was talking about you in second person. That, and Sam doesn't have your glare quite down. He doesn't nag me nearly as much either. Can I keep him?" He teased.

"Careful Mulder, or I might just stay here with Al. I like it here in the future. White spandex is EXTREMELY comfortable." He flashed her a smile that he hoped told her exactly how glad he was that she was back with him. "So-uh-what do you think, Scully?"

Al and Sam exchanged knowing glances as Mulder and Scully exchanged banter. Maybe there was just one more thing Sam was here to do than help them from getting killed after all that Ziggy forgot to mention, or that Scully was willing to admit.

"Definately looks like we've got an x-file here. I think aliens are responsible here from what I've seen of the reports. We don't have any proof though."

Mulder stood jaw-dropped in disbelief. He could not believe that those were words coming out of Scully's mouth. She glanced at Sam to cue him in on what had happened to the evidence.

"We'll get more proof, Mulder." He said after he had fin-ished.

"They will attack again, and then we'll get the evidence we need again." His tone tinged with guilt at the thought of someone else having to loose everything that made them human all in the name of evidence.

"Close your mouth, Mulder. We don't need a throat culture."

"Gee, Scully-I oughtta let you get out more often. Is that all I hadda do to make you see my side of things?"

"I could think like you if necessary Mulder, but it gives me a headache." She flashed him a wry smile showing him exactly how glad she was to be his partner again. They all sat silent and thoughtful for a moment. In an instant, Mulder's expression turned to one of determination.

"What if we give them bait to attack again?"

Wanna go fishing for little gray men, Sam?"

"I always thought they were green." was all Sam could say.

"I thought they knew Sam wasn't me already, Mulder." Scully started.

"I don't mean Sam, I meant use me as the bait."

"Mulder, that has got to be the stupidest idea you've gotten this whole d*mn leap! And Sam, you're gonna go through with it? I thought you had better sense than that!" Al interjected before Sam could respond.

"He's right, Mulder...this is absolutely crazy!" Scully protested. "You will barely be out of the hospital-barely be walking with the help of a cane, and you expect to be able to fight when you need to? Have the sedatives gone to your head? Because that's the only explanation I can possibly come up with for you to cook up something so completely idiotic!"

"The only way we're going to beat Krycek or what's left of the consortium at their own game is by getting them to come to us. Right now, we've got no leverage."

"Scully, Al...as much as I hate to admit it, he's right." Sam said with a defeated sigh. "Have you two got any better ideas?"

"I can't let you put yourself in that kind of position. It's too d*mn risky."

"I won't be far away if something happens. I want to get Krycek as much as you two. We'll get proof this time, and keep it, if I've got anything to do with it." "I'm sorry, Scully...but I don't see another way out of this."

"Alright." Her free hand raked her hair, and tapped the tips of her fingernails against her forehead. "I know, I'm going to kick myself later for asking this...but what have you got in mind?"

"We'll come up with something. Anybody got any ideas?"

"You were going to be bait without a plan." Scully reprimanded.

"Well...I didn't think anyone would buy the idea." Mulder admitted.

"The morgue, Mulder." Sam thought outloud. "They'll be at the morgue with the rest of the victims."

"How do you know, Sam?" Scully demanded.

"They'll be back for the other victims, won't they?"

"I hate to burst your bubble, but those victims are dead." Al answered.

"So was that girl." Al had to agree with Sam on that. "So, we'll wait at the morgue tomorrow."

"Mulder. You are absolutely crazy." Scully said wistfully.

"Yeah...I know." Mulder answered, half-grinning. Al and Sam both got the feeling not for the first time in that room between those two that more was being expressed than what was being said.

"Mulder, I still say this is a rotten idea." was Al's last feeble attempt at protesting. Mulder and Sam were both wondering if it was just their imaginations that made Al and Scully both looking paler-almost ghostlike. If it weren't for Al's peakockish attire, they both would've thought they were sickly looking.

"Just a couple more minutes, Goushie!" Al hollered behind him.

"Scooby gang, we better say g'bye here. Ziggy's running outta power, and I don't wanna risk loosing energy for the rest of the leap."

"Tomorrow, you'll be making me listen to something besides Elvis in the car on the way home and yelling at me to slow down."

"I'm counting on it, Mulder." Scully said, and with a few punch of the buttons, Al and Scully were gone.

"They didn't look to good? You sure they're alright in that machine?"

"It's an imaging chamber, Mulder" Sam corrected "...and they're fine. The drained power source makes them look dimmed to us." He tried to reassure Mulder, but knew it was useless, so he decided to change the subject. "So you're an Elvis fan too, huh?" Al popped back into the hospital room just then, looking much healthier. "You might be interested to know Sammyboy here got him started."

Mulder snorted incredulously. "It's true! He lept into Elvis before he got started, and Heartbreak Hotel came this close to being recorded by The Monkeys."

"Sam, Al-you're both nice guys...but I think you're just a taaaad delusional."

"Sam! Can you believe this guy!" Al objected. "Look who's callin' who delusional? You aren't exactly Reality Boy yourself, kid."

Mulder sighed resignedly. He was going to miss having them around soon, but he couldn't wait to have his partner by his side again. Without even knowing what was happening, he had changed completely in the seven years of their partnership-had evolved into a completely new person, as much as he had tried to stop the process, become more whole and complete than he had ever felt in his life. Mulder was completely lost in thought when Sam's voice suddenly broke the thoughtful silence.

"Mulder, I think I've got an idea."

Before Sam could say anything, the nurse came in to check vitals and set the dinner tray.

"You think we can use the hospital food as bait?" Mulder quipped.

"I'm sure we can carve this roll into a pistol or something." He said, rapping it on the tray. "Maybe we can use it like a frisbee and knock E.T. out with it."

"That's not a bad idea, kid. Maybe that gravy can be used as a decoy or something." Al chuckled.

"Al, don't encourage him." Sam reprimanded. "I'm serious...I think I know how we can trap them." Al's and Mulder's eyes all turned to Sam, expressions waiting for the answer.

"Well?" They chorused.

"How'd you like to take a trip with me to the morgue, Mulder?"

"Under normal circumstances, Sam, I'd say that wouldn't be my ideal place for a date...but if it gets Scully back...then I'm all for it."

"Sam...this is the craziest idea you've ever come up with! One leap, and Spooky's rubbing off on ya. I'll only go with this under one condition, Mulder." Al interjected. "That you tell her how you feel after all this is over."

"Al-" Mulder grumbled like a schoolboy being teased about a girl.

Sam, inspite of himself, couldn't help but notice the way Mulder and Scully interacted with eachother, and felt like he needed to help them sort things out. Maybe he would leave Scully a message in his entry to her tonight on her e-log, and flashed Al a cautionary look.

"Visit hours..." the same formidable nurse that came the last time was standing at the door.

"...are over, I know...I know...I'm going." Then he turned to Mulder. "I'll see ya tomorrow, Mulder. We'll work out the details in the morning."

"G'night Sa-Scully," Mulder caught himself. Then turned on the T.V. till the benadryl the nurse just gave him took over for the night.

May 21, 2001; 6:45AM Newberry Motor Inn, Newberry SC

Sam jolted out of bed at the sound of the alarm. He went about his morning routine, going back and forth through the plan worked out, making sure everything was going to work. Mulder would be checked out of the hospital in a little more than a couple of house, and soon, they'd go to the morgue to set the trap.

In the days that Sam had spent in Scully's life, he undertsood how she got so drawn into his quest, because now he was driven by his search for truth just as she was. He understood how Mulder felt, always searching for something so elusive. He understood how Scully felt, too...using logic and science to try and gain a stronghold in an oxymoron of a sort of controlled chaos. He wished he could help them more.

It would be nice to chase after monsters and aliens and the truth for a change instead of being tossed around in someone else's form like a pinball from life to life, remembering bits and peices of life before he stepped into the time machine like parts of a bad nightmare. Maybe after this, he could be content to leap home.

He typed a last goodbye message to Scully, figuring he would probably leap after the trap was set and the information retrieved. He recounted everything that had happened, thanking her for the help she had given them all over the past few days, wishing her luck. Before he stepped into the time machine, he probably never would have even considered meddling in other people's lives, but he felt he owed Dana Scully a revelation for the one she gave him.

"I know coming from a virtually complete stranger, this is going to sound strange, but letting the walls down doesn't necessarily mean you'll cave in. Ask Mulder up front how he feels. I don't think you'll be disappointed by his answer."

Sam packed Scully's things back into the suitcase, and headed out to the car, and drove to the hospital. It was going to work. It had to work.

Roswell, NM. Area 51; PQLHDQRTRS May 21, 7:30am

Al and Scully sat in the waiting room, waiting for word from Sam. They knew it wouldn't be long for now.

"Dana, I know this hasn't been easy for you, but I don't think we would've gotten through this leap without your help. Thank you."

Scully only nodded nervously. Her blue eyes red and darkened by sleeplessness.

"What's going to happen if Sam doesn't succeed?"

"We dunno yet. Nothing like that's ever happened. I am sure he and Mulder will follow through with the plan and you'll leap back home, and everything will be back to normal." He tried to reassure her.

"How can you stand it?"

"Stand what?"

"This waiting? How can you just sit by and be a casual observer with all that happens? And not be able to *DO* anything about it?"

"Casual observers? All of us here put our lives on the line just like you do. I make sure they're not alone out there. I think that's sometimes more than a lot of people get in the normal world."

In the few days Scully had spent with Al, as infuriating and crass as Al was at times, he had already proven to be someone Scully could trust, and there weren't many people in the universe she *did* trust. She was really going to miss Al, but she needed to be back with Mulder. She needed to be chasing after him chasing monsters and aliens, keeping him honest. Being rent from him and his quest over these past few days made her realize just how lost she was without him-like yin without a yang-unbalanced.

"Scully, Goushie says Sam's ready to check Mulder out of the hospital, so I'm gonna go."

"You gonna be ok?" She didn't want to leave Al alone, either.

"Yeah, I'm always ok, Dana. Just sit tight, and before you know it, you'll be back home and all of this will be over-you won't even remember any of it."

"I won't see you again, will I?"

"I hope not, Dana. I sure hope not." He said, and waved goodbye, and left the waiting room, heading into the imaging chamber.

May 21, 2001 9:30am Newberry Memorial Hospital Parkinglot, Newberry, SC

With a click and sweep, the blue light of the chamber door closed, and Al, adorned in an unusually somber blue suit with a cranberry red silk shirt appeared with cigar in hand.

"You ready kid?" He hoped Sam's plan would work. Mulder nodded, and a nurse escorted him with a wheelchair out of the hospital. He refused to let Sam help him into the car.

"I'm supposed to be chasing after little gray men in a few minutes. How the hell can I be expected to run if I can't even get into the car by myself."

Without warning, Mulder felt cold steal behind his ear. The gun c*cked behind his ear sounded to him like fireworks.

"Just drive, Agent Scully." Growled Krycek from the backseat.

"Drive or you'll hafta make an extra trip to the morgue." Sam started driving, and then gave Mulder a warning look.

"Get ready, to take the wheel, or duck, or both, Sam's about to be up to something."

Without a word, Sam grabbed Krycek's wrist, shots rang out as Sam tried to point the gun at the roof of the car.

Sam was pressing full force with the gas petal. Mulder steered the car onto the bypass, but the car swerved violently as the shots rang out. Blood spattered on the back window. Neither Sam nor Al could tell who the blood came from. Once they hit the offramp, Krycek let Sam get the gun, who made one last attempt to shoot at him as he bailed out of the left window. Sam took over the wheel as the car steadied itself. He averted a concerned glance over in Mulder's direction as he raced in the direction of the morgue.

"Mulder, you ok?" Al demanded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got grazed a little bit."

"Thank God!" Sam grumbled under his breath, and headed at normal speed on his way to the morgue. Then louder, directed to Al, he asked, "Krycek ok?"

"We're getting nadda on this guy, Sam. All of his records must have been swiped or something. Not even a birth date or social or anything like that. Just drive, we'll bag E.T., and you'll leap. Got that gravy ready, kid?" Al quipped. Mulder flashed him a dirty look.

"This is it." Sam said a few minutes later as Sam pulled into the parking lot of the morgue. "Mulder, you know what to do. After this is all over, Scully will be Scully again."

"What'll happen to you and Al?"

"One of two things," Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in. "I'll either leap home or change souls with someone else again."

Scully, the boys, and Skinner were the only three people he trusted with his life. It was nice to have two more people on his side. Mulder understood what it was like to hope for and chase after something so evasive.

"When you get back home, if you ever find yourself in D.C., look me up."

"Mulder, if you give Sam Dana Scully's phone number, you're the biggest schnozz I've ever met!" Was Al's quick reply.

"Don't worry, Al...she's sorta spoken for."

"Well...good luck, Mulder." Sam said, getting out of the car.

"You too, Sam." Mulder said, wincing from the glaze of the bullett as he climbed out of the car, putting all of his support on his cane.

Mulder and Sam both moved into their positions and waited. Mulder stood as long as he could before he decided to take a seat on one of the stools and waited. Lying in the hospital bed for the past few days had made him weaker than normal, and standing for long amounts of time was a bigger effort than it usually would be. Sam was waiting, with a lab-coat closet opened with just a crack, crouched into position. He was hoping that everything was going to work as planned. He hoped, for Mulder and Scully's sake, that they wouldn't need the Project's assistance again.

"Just sit tight, Sam." Al prompted. "Get ready to take out E.T., then get ready to leap."

What seemed like hours passed in the morgue, as still and silent as the dead people in there. Al was getting a bit jumpy, as he always did around dead people.

Mulder thought he saw one of the sheets from the morgue move, and his eyes averted a signaling glance to Al, cueing him that something was about to happen.

"Sam, this is it. Get ready!" Al shouted.

"Quiet Al! They'll go after you if they here ya." Mulder hissed.

"I'm a hologram, kid. They won't go after me." Al assured. "Just be careful!"

Mulder mentally kicked himself for having forgotten, struggled up on his feet, and waited for the sheet to fall all the way off as the victim's body...a young man with Mulder and Sam's build this time... robotically rose from the table. Mulder really hoped for Sam's sake that this time, he would leap all the way back.

"Now!" Al shouted. Sam came emerged from the other side of the door, aiming for the neck. He hoped he had hit the target. No such luck. The bullet glazed the ear of the victim's body. Green ooze seaped from the wound, stinging Sam's eyes as the monster moved closer and closer. He shot again, this time the bullett shot home.

Al was gone. Mulder wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw blue light surround Scully's form. Mulder tried to convince himself. Scully stood there, very disoriented, trying to figure out exactly how it came to be that she was standing over the corpse with a gun in her hand, and green goo oozing on the floor, getting on her black pumps. She looked down to see several indescriminate runs in her pantyhose. She wondered, and then looked up at Mulder, still pointing the gun down at the form of the corpse. It took her a few minutes to realize that she was even holding a gun.

"Mulder? What-is going..." She averted a questioning glance at the dried blood that was now nicely clotting on Mulder's forehead, and her eyes grew even wider as she wondered about the cane that was with him. Not for the first time in her life, she seemed to be missing time.

"I feel like I've missed something, somehow." She puzzled. Mulder walked up to her with the help of his cane.

"Scully?" He studied her for quite some time, trying to make sure she was really Scully.

"What Mulder?"

"Just take this and fill it with the green stuff." He said, handing her a vile he found on a rack of test tubes.

"You act like you haven't seen me in days! Mulder...what is going *on* with you!"

"I'll explain on the flight back home."

**Epilogue**

May 25, 2001 9:34pm Georgetown, Dana Scully's Residence

Scully sat wide-eyed reading the five new entries in her e-log. She thought the story Mulder made up over the flight a few days ago was just something he had made up just to ease her nerves for the flight. She thought she remembered some guy in a clownsuit. Clownsuit? That couldn't be right...after Oregon, she was definately taking a vacation.

She lazily tossed the dime-penny a couple of times. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Her tickets to the Bellefleur airport having just been tucked into her overnight bag, she decided to head over to Mulder's apartment.

Mulder had called sounding oddly nervous. The words of the entry she didn't remember writing came floating through her inner- monologue as she made her way down the hallway.

A knock on his door told him that Scully was there. Maybe he would take Scully on vacation after Bellefluer was overwith. Maybe telling her about what the doctor had said in the hospital a few days ago would be easier for both of them to take if they were away from the ratrace of Washington.

"Hey, Scully." Mulder said, planting a kiss on her forehead, leading her in. He was really glad she was back. They sat on the couch, arm in arm, watching nothing in particular on the television for an hour sipping beer and muching on popcorn...buttered.

"Mulder, we need to talk."

Mulder repressed the impulse to groan with disappointment. That phrase might as well have been a death knell. Funny choice of words he just picked with the news the doctors had given him. She was going to quit the Beureau. He knew it would come someday. Someday, he would need to leave the FBI, too. This time, he wouldn't stop her. He couldn't put her at risk anymore.

"If you're telling me you want outta the FBI, I understand, Scully. I'm not going to beg you to stay if you really need to leave."

"You want me to leave?" She had never been so nervous before in her life; she couldn't place it, but she thought he had been evading something on purpose since South Carolina. But that's not what she needed to find out tonight.

"No...that's not it at all."

"I don't want to leave the FBI, Mulder."

"What...? I-uh-" Relief spred across Mulder's face, and hoped she didn't see it. It was something else, then...had she found out he was sick? "Let me finish."

"I want to talk about you and me, Mulder." Her voice wavered and in almost a whisper, she said, "...us." Mulder was completely floored. Usually it was he who brought up the subject of "us," and before, she changed the subject or told him to drop the matter entirely. That night, the walls went down, and no one caved in.


	10. Chapter 10

**Epilogue**

May 25, 2001 9:34pm Georgetown, Dana Scully's Residence

Scully sat wide-eyed reading the five new entries in her e-log. She thought the story Mulder made up over the flight a few days ago was just something he had made up just to ease her nerves for the flight. She thought she remembered some guy in a clownsuit. Clownsuit? That couldn't be right...after Oregon, she was definately taking a vacation.

She lazily tossed the dime-penny a couple of times. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Her tickets to the Bellefleur airport having just been tucked into her overnight bag, she decided to head over to Mulder's apartment.

Mulder had called sounding oddly nervous. The words of the entry she didn't remember writing came floating through her inner- monologue as she made her way down the hallway.

A knock on his door told him that Scully was there. Maybe he would take Scully on vacation after Bellefluer was overwith. Maybe telling her about what the doctor had said in the hospital a few days ago would be easier for both of them to take if they were away from the ratrace of Washington.

"Hey, Scully." Mulder said, planting a kiss on her forehead, leading her in. He was really glad she was back. They sat on the couch, arm in arm, watching nothing in particular on the television for an hour sipping beer and muching on popcorn...buttered.

"Mulder, we need to talk."

Mulder repressed the impulse to groan with disappointment. That phrase might as well have been a death knell. Funny choice of words he just picked with the news the doctors had given him. She was going to quit the Beureau. He knew it would come someday. Someday, he would need to leave the FBI, too. This time, he wouldn't stop her. He couldn't put her at risk anymore.

"If you're telling me you want outta the FBI, I understand, Scully. I'm not going to beg you to stay if you really need to leave."

"You want me to leave?" She had never been so nervous before in her life; she couldn't place it, but she thought he had been evading something on purpose since South Carolina. But that's not what she needed to find out tonight.

"No...that's not it at all."

"I don't want to leave the FBI, Mulder."

"What...? I-uh-" Relief spred across Mulder's face, and hoped she didn't see it. It was something else, then...had she found out he was sick? "Let me finish."

"I want to talk about you and me, Mulder." Her voice wavered and in almost a whisper, she said, "...us." Mulder was completely floored. Usually it was he who brought up the subject of "us," and before, she changed the subject or told him to drop the matter entirely. That night, the walls went down, and no one caved in.


End file.
